The Game
by Deeanna1973
Summary: Nicholas suffers from crippling headaches and disturbing personality changes. Is a mystery illness to blame, or does someone want him dead? And can his teammates figure things out before Nicholas is lost forever? Off-mission and slightly AU, 1988 series era. Please read and review! Story now complete! :)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then.

* * *

Chapter 1

Prologue

"That's all for today. Class dismissed. I'll see you Thursday."

The students packed up their things and filed out of the classroom. The tanned, dark-haired professor followed suit, a few paces behind. It was his last lecture of the day, so he walked to his vehicle, punched in his keyless entry code, and climbed in the driver's seat.

As he backed out of his parking space and drove away, he was unaware that he was being followed.

* * *

"Professor Nicholas Black."

He adjusted his binoculars from his perch across the parking lot.

"I might have guessed you drove a BMW," he said with condescension.

He climbed into his car and pulled seamlessly behind the gray BMW.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Nicholas pulled into the parking spot in front of his apartment. He had not noticed that the dark, late-model sedan had followed him the entire way home. He paid no attention when it passed him and stopped just a few spaces away. He exited the BMW, fumbled for his apartment key, and disappeared inside.

The man in the sedan made a mental note of the street name and apartment number.

"Now I know where you live, Professor Black," he said menacingly to himself. "Now the game begins."

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. :)

* * *

Chapter 2

"Max, I can't thank you enough for letting me crash here while the exterminators descended upon my place," Nicholas smiled as Max helped him load his suitcases into the trunk of the gray BMW.

Max grinned back at his friend. "Well, it was only for three days," he quipped. "I suppose I can get along with anyone for three days."

Nicholas feigned offense. "Hey, I'm not that hard to live with," he said in mock protest. Then he turned serious. "Do you think we'll have another mission soon?"

"I hope so," Max replied. "I could use a little excitement. You've seen firsthand how boring my life is."

Nicholas grinned and shook his head. Max was certainly in rare form today. He slammed the trunk, then extended his hand. "Thanks, again, pal. I'll return the favor someday."

"I'll see to it," Max replied, returning the handshake and thumping his friend enthusiastically on the shoulder. Then Nicholas got into his car and drove in the direction of his apartment.

* * *

The man smiled as he saw the gray BMW approaching him. Nicholas pulled into the adjacent parking spot and rolled down the driver's side window.

"Your key, Mister Black," he said, as he handed Nicholas the key to his apartment. "All clear. No sign of critters."

"Thank you so much," Nicholas answered warmly. "I'm sure I'll sleep well tonight knowing that."

As Nicholas retrieved his bags from the trunk and entered the apartment, the man smiled wickedly. "Oh, you'll sleep well," he murmured. "Very well indeed."

* * *

Nicholas winced as his phone rang. "Hello?"

"Howdy, partner! Miss me yet?" came Max's unmistakable voice.

"Hi, Max," responded Nicholas quietly.

Immediately Max became alarmed. "What's wrong, buddy? You sound tired."

"Headache," he replied, rubbing his temple with his free hand. Then, sensing Max's worry, he added, "I'll be okay."

"Class today?" Max asked.

"No. Some college event. The president cancelled all classes for today."

"Then maybe you should just try to get some rest," Max suggested.

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea," affirmed Nicholas. "I may just do that."

"All right, Nicholas. I'll check in with you later then. Hope you feel better."

"Thanks."

Nicholas hung up the phone, deciding Max was right. He could do with some rest. He went upstairs to lie down.

Little did he know that the rest would cause him to feel worse instead of better...

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. :)

* * *

Chapter 3

It had been a rough class. Nicholas had tried to concentrate on delivering his lecture, but he found himself losing focus on everything except his pounding head. A couple of students had even asked about his well-being; of course, he insisted that he was fine, but he had cut the lecture a few minutes short.

He was sitting at his desk, rubbing his temples, when there came a soft knock on the open door.

Nicholas looked up, mildly startled, which caused his head to throb.

"Shannon!" Nicholas smiled wanly as he got to his feet and went to embrace his friend. "What a nice surprise! What brings you here?"

"I was in the neighborhood, and I knew your class was about over so I thought I'd see if you wanted to grab a cup of coffee." She spoke casually, but all the while she was eyeing Nicholas intently. He was paler than usual, his face drawn.

"Are you all right, Nicholas?" she asked, concerned.  
"Just a headache, Shannon," he replied dismissively. "It's nothing."

"Did you take anything for it?"  
"I took some painkillers about an hour ago," Nicholas replied, trying to sound more upbeat than he felt. "They'll probably kick in any moment now."

"Why don't we go find some caffeine to chase them with?" she suggested.

Nicholas did not feel much like doing anything other than going home and lying down, but he didn't want to worry his friend. Besides, he hadn't seen her since their last mission ended a couple of weeks ago.

"That sounds good," he answered.  
"Good. I'll drive."

"How's your head?" Shannon asked, after they had finished their coffees and made small talk for a half hour. Then, she looked into Nicholas' brown eyes, weak and watery, and knew the answer. "It's not any better, is it?"

"Not really," answered Nicholas honestly.

"Seems like I remember Max saying you had a headache a couple days ago when he called you, before he left." Nicholas nodded in confirmation. Max had gone out of the country to pilot a plane on a classified mission, so he had been out of touch the past couple of days.

"How long has this been going on?" Shannon said worriedly.

Nicholas hesitated for a moment. There was no sense in lying; Shannon always could see right through him. "This is day four," he replied quietly.

Immediately, as he'd suspected, Shannon became alarmed.  
"Continuously?" she asked, and again his face confirmed the answer. "Do the painkillers help at all?"

"Sometimes they dull the pain," Nicholas responded, "but it doesn't go away completely."

"Nicholas," she said softly, "you need to see a doctor about this, to make sure there's nothing seriously wrong."

"Shannon, I'm fine," protested Nicholas. "It's just a silly headache."

"It's not silly," she insisted. "I'm worried about you."

"Shannon, I appreciate your concern," smiled Nicholas, "but I'm okay, really."

"Nicholas," Shannon pleaded, her eyes liquid as she reached across the table to take his hand, "please let me take you to the hospital."

"I don't want to go to the hospital," Nicholas countered.

"Please."

For a moment, Nicholas thought Shannon was going to cry. He certainly didn't want that to happen. Finally, realizing she wasn't going to give up, he sighed and relented. "Okay."

* * *

"Well, Mr. Black," reported the doctor a couple of hours later, "the good news is, all of the tests we ran came back normal, so there's probably nothing serious going on. The bad news is, we're still not sure what is triggering your headaches. Is there anything that happened four days ago that was different from your normal routine?"

"Not that I can think of," replied Nicholas, although it was hard to think of anything with his head throbbing the way it was. They had given him a shot for the pain, but it hadn't taken effect yet.

"Wait a minute," remembered Shannon, who had come back into the exam room after Nicholas had finished his tests, "wasn't that when you went back home after the exterminator left?"

"That's right," he concurred.  
"Doctor, could he be reacting to the chemicals the exterminator used?"

"It doesn't seem likely," replied the doctor.  
"Yes, besides, they said it was all clear," added Nicholas.

"So we are going to call it simple migraine. I'm going to give you a medication to take once daily to prevent migraines, but it will take a little while for it to get into your system so I suggest you continue to take some strong painkillers in the meantime."

Shannon stopped by the pharmacy to pick up the medications, and then ran Nicholas home.  
"Are you sure you'll be all right by yourself, Nicholas? Because I'll stay with you if you need me to."

Nicholas smiled and dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "I'll be fine," he replied. "Besides, the shot they gave me is starting to kick in. I'll probably sleep all afternoon."

Shannon walked upstairs with him and made sure he was comfortable. "Okay, then," she said, "but call me if you need anything, all right?"

"Thanks, Shannon," Nicholas replied, his brown eyes already beginning to close.

For one more moment, Shannon watched him, then she sighed and left the apartment, locking the door behind her. She was still very worried about her friend, but she hoped that he would rest well and that when he woke this time his headache would be nothing but a memory.

* * *

The man watched as the pretty female exited Professor Black's apartment, silently thanking her for her help. It had taken four days, but she had finally convinced him to go to the doctor. Now the game could enter phase two.

He glanced at the monitor. Black was asleep, and probably would sleep soundly for a while. Still, there was no point in taking chances. He pressed a button, and a very fine mist seeped into the bedroom through a vent in the wall.

Now, he would certainly sleep through the next few hours. That would give him plenty of time to implement his plan.

He slipped on his gloves, picked up the vials he would need, and made sure he had the key he'd had made four days earlier. Nobody was watching as he slipped the key in the lock and opened the front door of the apartment. He spotted the bottles of medication on the table inside the front door and got to work.

tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. :)

* * *

Chapter 4

Nicholas woke up with a start. Sunlight peeked through the curtains of his upstairs bedroom. It was daylight. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep after Shannon had dropped him off. But that was Wednesday, mid-afternoon. Was it still Wednesday? Was it Thursday?

His brain felt foggy. He wasn't sure.

He rose up gingerly from the pillow. His headache wasn't completely gone, but it had faded to a dull ache; noticeable, but easily ignored. That was good. After the last several days, he could deal with that.

He reached over and grabbed the clock beside his bed, checking the time and date. It was Thursday, ten in the morning. Geez, he must have been exhausted! He never slept till ten in the morning!

Nicholas checked his phone. There were a handful of missed calls from his teammates and a couple of messages.

Nicholas smiled to himself. It was nice that his teammates were also his friends. They had worked together for just over two years, but during that time all five of them had become very close.

He knew that they cared about him and would do anything to help him. It certainly helped ease the monotony and loneliness of being a lifelong bachelor living far from his birth family.

The first message was from Shannon, so he called her back first.  
"Nicholas! We were about to send out a search party," she greeted, only half in jest. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel much better, thanks," he admitted. "My headache is pretty much gone now, and I slept like a log last night."

"You were probably tired," she replied. "Fighting a headache for four days has to be exhausting. I'm glad you're feeling better."

She paused for a beat. "Listen, Max is supposed to be back from his flight this afternoon, and we thought about getting together and going out to dinner - the five of us." She paused again, uncertainly. "That is, if you're up to it."

Nicholas hesitated. "Gee, Shannon, I'd love to. I just don't know how my head is going to handle things just yet."

"That's okay, Nicholas," Shannon answered, trying unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment. "I shouldn't have asked. We'll do it another time."

"That doesn't mean you all can't go out," challenged Nicholas. "Don't let me be a wet blanket."

"It wouldn't be the same," Shannon said simply, her voice nearly a whisper.

Nicholas knew in that moment that neither Shannon nor the rest of the team would go out for a celebration if he could not be part of it. He felt guilty; he couldn't do that.

"Shannon, wait," he interjected. "On second thought, a nice dinner with friends might make me feel better."

"Are you sure you're up to it?"  
"Count me in."

"Great! I'll tell the others. And since your car is still at the university, I'll pick you up. Six o'clock?"  
Nicholas agreed, said goodbye, and hung up the phone.

"Well," he thought to himself, "if I'm going to make this work, I'd better make sure this headache doesn't get any worse." He walked downstairs and poured himself a glass of water, then he reached for the bottle of pills they had picked up at the hospital yesterday. He twisted off the cap, took one out, swallowed it, and replaced the cap.

And the man watching him smiled.

* * *

Shannon, Grant, and Jim picked Nicholas up at six o'clock. Max met them at a local restaurant. Everyone was glad to see that Nicholas was feeling better, and Nicholas did his best to put on a brave face.

In reality, he really didn't feel that well at all. In fact, truth be told, he actually felt worse than he had earlier this morning. His head still ached, though duller now, his stomach felt a little funny, and he was burning up underneath his jacket, even though he knew from previous experience that it was probably cool in this restaurant.

"How are you doing, Nicholas?" Jim asked quietly, with a fatherly sort of concern, for he had noticed tiny beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. "You've hardly touched your dinner."

"Sorry, guys," he murmured. "Probably just residual stuff from having this headache for so long."

Nicholas picked up his coffee mug to take a sip, and his hand shook so violently that some liquid began to spill out.

"Easy, buddy," Max said, instinctively reaching out a hand to steady his. "You're shaking," he observed. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, honest," Nicholas answered bravely. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm on the mend, I promise."

"I think we'd better get you home, my friend," said Grant. The others quickly took the cue and began to prepare for departure.

Nicholas held up his hand. "Come on, guys, you don't have to break up the party on my account."

"Are you kidding?" Max responded good-naturedly, wanting to get Nicholas home to rest but not wishing his friend to feel badly about it. "I've been in the air for three days. I'm ready to crash. Pardon the pun," he added as Shannon gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.

"Yeah, and some of us have to work in the morning," added Grant, an IT specialist when not running missions.

The four friends said goodbye to Max and then drove to the university to retrieve Nicholas' car. Nicholas started to get out, but Grant laid a hand on his arm.  
"I'll drive it home for you," he stated.  
"But, Grant -"  
"No buts," he interrupted. "Give me your key."  
Grant 's no-nonsense tone left no room for argument, so Nicholas handed over the keys.

Once they reached the apartment, his three friends wished him good night. Nicholas went inside. It was only then that he let his guard down.

He leaned against the bathroom sink, his arms trembling violently, and peered in the mirror at his reflection. He removed his glasses, which had managed to hide the fact that his pupils were extremely dilated. His stomach churned violently, threatening to reject what little bit he had managed to put in it at dinnertime. And it seemed as if the dull ache in his head had gotten worse as soon as he'd entered the apartment.

He wasn't sure what was causing the other symptoms, but he could certainly do something about the headache. He took a couple of painkillers and went upstairs to bed.

* * *

The man watched in satisfaction. The physical symptoms had begun. The game would continue, but it was time to turn things up a notch.

tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. :)

A little bit of language in this chapter...hence the rating...

* * *

Chapter 5

The next day was Friday, and Nicholas' alarm clock went off early. He had a 10:00 class today.

Not that he was excited.

"Why do I even bother with teaching those spoiled brats anyway?" he muttered to himself. "They couldn't care less about anything I say. It's a complete waste of my time."

Rising, he stumbled to the bathroom and took quick stock of how he was feeling - and looking - today. It wasn't good. His pupils were still dilated, but he should be able to hide them behind his glasses. His pale complexion and the beads of sweat on his forehead would not be so easy to conceal.

The dull headache was still there. It had now been almost a week since he had been pain free. Maybe that's why he was in such a foul mood today.

He got dressed and left for the university, stopping to take one of his headache pills before walking out the door.

* * *

It started almost as soon as class began.

One of the students in class noticed that Nicholas was pale and sweaty, and remembered that he had had a headache during class two days before.

"Are you feeling all right, Professor Black?"

"I'm fine!" Nicholas snapped, too harshly. "Damn it, why does everybody keep asking me that? I'm just fine! Now shut up and let me finish my class!"

The concerned student, as well as the entire class, were stunned. They had never heard the soft-spoken drama teacher curse or raise his voice, and now he had done both...and just because someone had asked about his well-being.

Less than ten minutes later, it happened again.

One of the students timidly verbalized a question about something Nicholas had said. Nicholas snapped into a tirade.

"What do you mean, you don't understand?" he yelled, his eyes popping and the veins in his neck clearly visible. "Didn't you hear what I said? Wasn't I clear enough?"

Nicholas was sweating profusely now, and his heart was pounding so quickly that he thought he would have a heart attack on the spot. How dare they not listen to him! How dare they disrespect!

The concerned student from earlier, still concerned, ventured, "Professor?"

But Nicholas interrupted him.

"Don't you cut me off when I'm talking!"

After a few more moments of yelling and obscenities, Nicholas grew quiet.

"Get out!" he said in a stage whisper, a dangerous edge to his voice. "All of you! Get out of my classroom and leave me alone! Class is over!"

The students complied, as quickly as they could, frightened of what the professor might do next.

* * *

Shannon pulled into campus, parked the car, and glanced at her watch. It would still be another half hour or so before Nicholas' class would be over, but she would wait. She hadn't gotten to speak to him this morning, and she just wanted to make sure he was feeling okay.

She got out of the car, planning to spend a few minutes walking around campus. Suddenly, a door opened and several students came walking out. Somebody in Nicholas' building decided to let their class out early, she thought to herself.

Just then, she heard one of the students say, "Professor Black." She turned, half in shock. Could this be Nicholas' class?

"Excuse me," Shannon said, catching the male student's attention. "Are you in Professor Black's class?"

When the young man nodded, she continued. "You guys are out early. Did something happen?"

The students exchanged nervous glances. "It's okay, I'm a friend of the professor's."

Two students then took turns relaying to Shannon what had happened in class. "It was really scary," a female student concluded. "The professor has never done anything like that before. We think something may be wrong with him."

"Since you're his friend, I hope you can help him," the young man added. "He's really a great teacher."

"I will do my best," Shannon promised them, trying to be reassuring. But the fact was that she, too, was terrified.

Shannon nervously rounded the corner and peeked into Nicholas' clsssroom. She was shocked by what she saw in front of her.

"Nicholas!" she exclaimed. "What's-"

"Don't, Shannon," he growled, a malicious gleam in his brown eyes. His voice was low, but grew louder with every word he spoke. "Stop asking me what's wrong, and stop asking me if I'm all right. I'm fine! Just...fine!"

His face, once pale, was now flushed and sweaty. His breath was coming in gasps, his chest heaving with every word as he got to his feet.

"Nicholas, please let me help you," Shannon pleaded softly.

"You can help me," he gasped, "by leaving me the hell alone."

"I can't do that, Nicholas," she responded. "I'm your friend."

"I don't need any friends," he said, his teeth clenched.

He started toward the door. Shannon tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder, and he jerked away. He took off at a rapid clip toward his car. Shannon called his name several times, but he ignored her and drove away.

* * *

Nicholas exceeded the speed limit during the short drive home. Shannon wanted to follow him without being noticed - just to make sure he got home all right in the shape he was in - but instead she had problems keeping him in sight.

She watched him until he disappeared into the apartment, then she picked up her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Jim," she said, her voice tense, "we've got trouble."

tbc...


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. :)

A little bit of language in this chapter...hence the rating...

* * *

Chapter 6

"So what's going on with Nicholas?" Max asked as the four teammates gathered together at Jim's apartment.  
Shannon filled them in on the events that had taken place at the university, and described Nicholas' physical symptoms to the team.

"Do you know what this sounds like to me?" Grant asked somberly.  
"Drugs," Jim read his mind.

"No way," Max retorted. "Nicholas would never take drugs. I can't believe you'd even suggest something like that."

"We know he wouldn't intentionally take illegal drugs, Max," responded Grant, "but what about legal ones?"

"What are you saying, Grant?" Shannon questioned.  
"Maybe Nicholas is experiencing side effects from his new headache medicine," Jim suggested, still following Grant 's line of thinking.

"That would make sense," Max reasoned. "That's kind of when this whole thing started."  
"Let me look it up and see what I can find out," Grant mused. He punched a few buttons on his computer keyboard and brought up a list of side effects of the drugs that Nicholas was taking. He read over them and frowned.

"Well, that doesn't make sense," he said. "Aside from a bit of nausea and residual headache, none of the things we've seen from Nicholas - sweating, labored breathing, tremors - are reported side effects of either of his medications."

"Which means what? That he's taking something else?"  
"It doesn't seem likely," Shannon responded to Jim's question. "I was with him the whole time at the hospital, and I'm the one who picked up the medications. Nicholas didn't have a chance to get anything else."

"And it almost certainly wasn't already in the house," Max added. "You all know Nicholas as well as I do."  
Jim began to pace. "But I keep going back to what we said earlier...this all started after he went to the emergency room with that headache, when he started taking that medicine."

Grant 's dark complexion suddenly turned pale. "Jim," he said anxiously, "you don't suppose the medicine could have been compromised...?"

Max cursed under his breath, and Shannon's face lost all color at the implication. She felt light headed for a moment, and would have slipped off her perch on the corner of Grant 's desk if Max had not reached out a hand to steady her.

"No," she almost whispered. "I didn't...I wouldn't ..."  
"Relax, Shannon," soothed Jim. "We know you'd never hurt Nicholas."

"Then how could it have happened?"  
"I don't know," admitted Grant. "I just know that the side effects Nicholas is experiencing sound more like a recreational drug than a prescription...and something tells me that the only way we're going to find the answer is to get our hands on that medication."

"That won't be easy," understated Max.  
"True," admitted Grant. "He's not going to just give it to us, and we don't want to use our knockout gas because we don't know what's in his system already. As unpredictable as his behavior is, it may take all four of us to get our hands on it."

Shannon sighed. None of them were looking forward to the confrontation with Nicholas, but Shannon, who'd already seen a scary side of him, dreaded it most of all.

"There's no time like the present," Max observed. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can help him."  
With that, the four friends loaded into the Land Rover and took off toward Nicholas' apartment.

* * *

Nicholas slammed the apartment door behind him and then fell against it, still panting heavily, his heart still thumping in his chest.

Why couldn't everybody just leave him alone? he thought angrily. Everybody always had their noses stuck in his business. The students at that stupid university: disrespectful bunch, they were. They never listened to a thing he had to say. Probably laughed at him behind his back. Probably laughing even now.

And the IMF team: why did he ever get involved with them? They wait until he gets settled and then rip him away and force him to go on a mission far from home for God knows how long. They don't care about him. They just use him because he's good at acting and disguises and voices...and then they're done with him. He hated then all...especially that meddling woman. Showing up at the university as if he needed a babysitter, pretending to care about him.

Couldn't they see that he could take care of himself? That he was fine? If he could just get rid of this damned headache...

He just needed a glass of water. Then he could take a couple of painkillers and he'd be fine in an hour or two.

He opened up the bottle and shook two pills out in his hand. He stared at them for a moment and frowned. They looked green to him. Funny, they looked blue last time he took some.  
He looked at the bottle again to make sure he was taking the right thing. Yep, it was the same brand. Aw, hell. He didn't have the patience to try to figure it out right now. He just wanted to sleep.

* * *

Everything was going according to plan, the man thought to himself. Just another day or two and the game would be over...

The smile on his face faltered a bit as he saw the black Land Rover park in the spot beside Nicholas. The pretty female from earlier got out, accompanied by three men. This could be trouble, he thought.

He started to reach for the buttons on his console, but stopped himself. No sense in creating undue suspicion, he thought. The shape that Black was in, he would have fun with them. They would pose no threat.

The man settled down to watch and listen. This would be a good show.

* * *

Nicholas awoke with a start to the sound of knocking on the front door downstairs.  
"Nicholas?" It was the blond one...Max, was it? His head hurt so badly he couldn't think straight..."Nicholas, open the door!"

"Go away," he growled.  
"We're all here, Nicholas," said Jim, "and we're not going anywhere."  
"Open up, pal," Grant chimed in.  
"Please, Nicholas."  
It was the woman. The sound of her voice made his blood boil.

"I said, Go away!" he repeated.  
"Nicholas, we're your friends," urged Max. "Let us in. Let us help you."  
"I don't need any help," he replied, teeth clenched, as he came downstairs, "and I don't need any friends."

The words made Max's stomach lurch. It's true that all of the team members were close friends with one another, but Nicholas was like an older brother to him. In many ways, he reminded Max of his brother, Ray, who had passed away a few years before. For that reason, the words were particularly painful to him.

But in the very next moment, his blood boiled. Who in the hell had done this to his friend? Max couldn't wait to make them pay.

"Don't make me break down the door, buddy," Max threatened, placing an intended emphasis on the last word.  
Nicholas sighed in exasperation. He sure didn't need this right now.  
"What do you want?" he asked in frustration.  
"We just want to talk to you," Jim replied. "That's all."

"I don't want to talk to you, and I have nothing to say," responded Nicholas coldly. "But if I talk to you for five minutes, will you leave me alone?"  
"It's a deal," promised Grant, and Nicholas opened the door.

The team was shocked at Nicholas' appearance. He had not taken time to put on his glasses, so they could clearly see that his pupils were dilated. His shirt was soaked with perspiration, which continued to drip off his beet-red face. His pants were barely clinging to his hips; he had lost at least ten pounds in the past week. The team wondered if he had even eaten anything since he'd picked at his dinner the night before.

"Oh, Nicholas!" Shannon breathed, tears peeking through the corners of her eyes.  
She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he forcefully pushed her away. Grant 's muscles tensed, for he thought briefly about defending Shannon, but Jim laid a hand on his arm in gentle restraint.

"Nicholas," Jim said softly, "what's going on? This isn't like you at all."  
"Not like me?" Nicholas jeered. "You think you know what I'm like? You don't know a damned thing about me!"

"We've been friends for years, Nicholas, don't you remember?" Max ventured.  
Nicholas stepped forward and got in Max's face. "I...told you..." he seethed, his breath coming heavily, as he jabbed his finger into Max's chest, "I am not...your friend!"

It took all the restraint that he had, but Max couldn't punch his friend. He had to keep reminding himself that wasn't really Nicholas in there. The Nicholas he knew would have never said something like that.

"We're worried about you," Shannon said, almost pleadingly.  
"Worried about me?" Nicholas jeered again. "Please! You're worried that I won't be up to par for the next mission you need my help on!" He turned his attention to Jim. "Well, no need to worry, Mister Phelps," he sneered as he spat out Jim's name, "because I'm done with you! I'm done with all of you! Now get out of my house!"

Grant 's eyes darted around the room and he spotted the medicine bottles he was looking for. With one fluid motion, he grabbed them.  
"Shannon, here!" he called, and tossed her the bottles.

Nicholas turned his attention from Jim and his head snapped toward Grant.  
"Hey, those are mine! Give me those back! I need them!"

Suddenly, everything happened at once. Nicholas lunged at Grant, at the same time that Grant yelled, "Run, Shannon!"  
Shannon, who was closest to the door, took off toward the car with the medications, with Jim at her heels.

Max, seeing Nicholas move toward Grant, caught him from behind and pinned his arms down by his sides. Nicholas, who was still breathing heavily, was no match for the taller man.

Max whirled his friend around until they were eye to eye. "Look, Nicholas," he said, quietly but with an edge to his voice, "I know that right now you're not thinking straight and you think we're here to hurt you. But I promise you, that's the last thing we'd ever do. We only want to help, and this isn't over. As soon as we get some answers, we'll be back."

Max slowly loosened his grip on Nicholas, who immediately drew his hand back to punch his friend. Max pushed him back onto the sofa - far more gently than he could have - and ran toward the door where Grant was waiting. They slammed the apartment door behind them, and by the time Nicholas got to his feet they were gone.

* * *

The man had watched everything unfold from his unseen vantage print . He frowned. They weren't supposed to grab the medications, he mused. Someone must have gotten suspicious.

It would have to happen tonight, he realized, before anyone found out the truth. The game would end tonight...and that would be the last of Professor Black.

tbc...


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 7

Max half-turned in his seat and looked back toward Nicholas' apartment. Shannon, with a burst of empathy, reached for his hand.

"Max? You okay?"  
"What's wrong with him?" Max mumbled, rather than answering Shannon's question.

"I don't know, buddy," answered Grant, "but I'm more convinced than ever that the answer is in these pills."

Max nodded. "Maybe if I went to see him alone...or stayed with him..."

"Max," Shannon shook her head, "you saw how he was just now. He was the same way with me earlier today, and he'd be the same way with just you."

Jim, behind the wheel, glanced at Max through the rear view mirror. "I know how hard this is for you, Max," he said softly. "We'll get him back. We have to."

* * *

Nicholas slammed the apartment door in anger. He thought briefly about pursuing the Land Rover, but he honestly did not feel like it.

How dare they! Show up at his door, claiming to be his friends, claiming to be helping him, then they take the only thing that's helped his headaches the entire week! As if something was wrong with his medication! Why, they were probably going to mess with the medicine themselves, then bring it back here and force him to take it!

Well, he'd show them! He just wouldn't let them back inside, either of them! And if the big brute threatened again to knock down the door, he'd just call the police!

Nicholas was weak from his cardiovascular system working overtime and from lack of food. Plus, his head was pounding harder than ever - and no medication to take for it now!

I've got to sleep, Nicholas thought to himself. It's the only thing I can do to make myself feel better. He wasn't sure if he could sleep without the aid of his painkillers, but he would have to try.

He staggered upstairs to lie down and waited for sleep to come. But sleep eluded him as his heart and head continued to pound.

As Nicholas laid there, he found himself slipping into a panic. What if he never got rid of his headache ? What if he went crazy? What if he couldn't ever go to sleep again? What if his heart beat so fast he had a heart attack?

Nicholas was so tired that his eyes closed, almost against his will. All at once, he felt something crawling on his arms. His eyelids jerked open once again.

Spiders!  
Tarantulas! There were hundreds of baby tarantulas, crawling up and down his arms!  
He screamed out and shook both arms violently, trying to shake them off. It didn't work. He rubbed both arms trying to rub them off. But he still felt them crawling...crawling...

There was only one thing to do.

Nicholas half-ran, half-stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen, where he grabbed the largest steak knife he could find. He plunged the blade into his arm over and over again, hacking at the spiders. Blood began to squirt out, and he hacked even harder. He was doing it! He was killing them!

Suddenly, he felt the room spinning around and around...and then everything went black.

* * *

On the way back to Jim's apartment, Grant stopped by a local laboratory to see a friend of his. He took the two bottles of medicine inside, and just a few minutes later emerged again.

"Phil is really good about not asking questions," he assured the team. "I gave him limited information and he promised he would drop everything and run the numbers right now. He will probably be done by the time we get to Jim's apartment."

He was true to his word. Shortly after they arrived, Grant's phone rang. Grant frowned worriedly as the caller spoke. A few moments later, he hung up.

"Looks like our theory was spot-on," Grant said quietly. "Both bottles contained significant traces of LSD."  
"LSD?" cried Shannon, incredulous. "How?"

Max wasn't worried about how. His mind was racing at breakneck speed.  
"Wasn't that the drug that the CIA used in those experiments in the '50s?"

"The same," replied Jim. "According to some, there were people who were driven to suicide as a result."

For one sickening moment, there was silence in the room.

Suddenly, Max's eyes grew wide and he jumped up. "Oh, God, Nicholas!" he cried. In a flash, he bolted out the door, jumped on the motorcycle he'd brought to Jim's this morning, and sped off toward Nicholas' apartment.

* * *

Going thirty miles over the speed limit on a motorcycle was probably not the smartest thing Max could have done, and intellectually he knew that he was taking a chance. If he wiped out, he would be no help to Nicholas. But he couldn't think about that now. He was absolutely certain - more than he had ever been of anything - that his friend's life was in grave danger.

He was off his bike almost before it came to a stop. He police knocked on Nicholas' apartment door.

"NICHOLAS!" he yelled, as loudly as he could.

There was no response, no ugly retort from within, which meant that he was either asleep, or...

Max did not wait any longer.

With one hard kick, the door popped open. For a moment, Max thought he was going to be sick.

It looked like someone had slaughtered hogs in the kitchen. There were streaks of blood everywhere...on the ceiling, on the walls, on the floor...

Nicholas was lying unconscious in the kitchen floor, bleeding profusely from his left arm, which had an untold number of knife wounds. It didn't look like a normal suicide attempt, but Max didn't have time to try to analyze what had happened.

He rushed to Nicholas' side, stripping off his shirt and wrapping his wounded arm while simultaneously checking his vital signs. His heart rate was dangerously high; no wonder he was bleeding out so quickly, Max thought, as he looked at Nicholas' chest for signs of breathing.

There were none.

Max felt himself panic for a split second, then forced himself to calm down. As best he could while maintaining a pressure grip on Nicholas' bleeding arm, Max blew in two rescue breaths. Then he quickly located Nicholas' cordless phone and dialed 911.

"Male, 40, multiple stab wounds, massive blood loss, fast thready pulse, not breathing. I'm giving first aid," he told the dispatcher with practiced precision. Then he rattled off Nicholas' address and tossed the phone aside. He resumed rescue breathing while applying steady pressure on the stab wounds on his arm. Of course, the airway was important, but he had lost so much blood...

"Don't you die on me, partner," Max pleaded between breaths. Max became dimly aware of a dull headache, but ignored it as he had more important things to think about.

Finally, just as the ambulance arrived, Nicholas took a shallow breath on his own. Max sighed in relief, though he knew his friend was still in danger, and stepped back to make room for the paramedics.

Max heard the sound of the Land Rover pull into the parking space. Hastily he went to the front door. His four friends were rushing toward him. Max held up his hand.

"Shannon, stay there," he cautioned. "You don't need to see this."

Shannon obeyed, but began to cry as she choked out, "Nicholas...?"  
"He's alive for the moment," Max muttered.

The paramedics picked up the stretcher with Nicholas on board and began to carry him toward the ambulance. "Grant," Max called, tossing him a set of keys, "get my bike. I'll meet you at the hospital." And Max climbed into the ambulance with Nicholas as they sped away.

Before leaving, Grant and Jim took a peek inside the apartment. "Oh, my God," Jim uttered, and he looked sadly at his teammate. Neither of them spoke, but both thought Nicholas would be dead before he reached the hospital.

* * *

The man cursed. It wasn't supposed to end this way. Professor Black was supposed to die before being found. Now he had a chance to make it, and that was unacceptable. He would just have to find a way to make sure the professor did not leave the hospital alive.

* * *

Grant and the others reached the hospital several minutes later. Max was still sitting in the waiting room, head in his hands. For a moment, they all feared the worst.

"Max?" Shannon cried out in fear.  
"They're still working with him," Max answered. "They won't let me back there."

Grant sighed. Max looked like hell, he thought. He was still shirtless. Grant couldn't help chuckling to himself as he realized that the hospital probably couldn't find one that would fit his friend's massive shoulders. Luckily, he had found one of Max's jackets in the back of the Land Rover. He tossed it to him, and Max absently put it on.

For a while, they sat there in silence: Jim with an arm around Shannon, who held Max's hand while Grant, flanking his other side, sat with an arm resting across Max's shoulders.  
Finally, the doctor emerged from the back. All four friends stood up to greet him.

"Are you all family of Mr. Black?" he asked, his eyes pointing toward Grant.  
Grant ignored the implication. "We're the only family he's got," Grant responded. "How is he?"

"Why don't we go into the family room and talk?" the doctor said softly.

Shannon's face paled. It was bad news, it had to be. The doctor saw her expression. "He's stable," he quickly reassured her, and all four of them let out audible sighs of relief. "I just thought you'd want some privacy."

The four followed the doctor in the family room, and when the door closed behind them he began to speak.

"As I said, his condition is stable," he began. He looked at Max. "I understand he has you to thank for that. The paramedics told me that if you'd arrived even two minutes later, it would have been too late."

Max shrugged. He wanted no kudos, no credit. He just wanted his friend to be all right.

"When he came in, he was severely tachycardic and was in hypovolemic shock," the doctor continued. "He lost approximately sixty percent of his total blood volume, and he was severely dehydrated. Judging by his lack of stomach contents, he probably hasn't eaten in at least twenty-four hours."

Our dinner together...could that really have been only yesterday? Grant thought to himself.

"We gave him some blood and he's on IV fluids, which is helping with all of that. And, as you know," he said to Max, "he wasn't breathing when you found him..."

Shannon gasped. She hadn't realized that. Grant laid a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"...so we've also got him on oxygen. There were seventeen stab wounds on his arm, which took almost 100 stitches to close."

The doctor paused, choosing his next words carefully. "We pulled a toxicology report," he stated. "Are you aware that we found LSD in his system?"

"We're aware," Jim replied simply, without elaborating.  
"It doesn't look like he's a chronic user, though," the doctor continued.  
"He isn't," answered Grant.

The doctor waited for a moment. Then, seeing that they weren't going to volunteer any further information, he went on. "Well, LSD can cause some personality changes, irritability, even an inclination to harm oneself or others. For that reason, we're keeping him sedated for the next twenty-four hours until the effects of the drug leave his system. Then we'll wake him up and see how he does."

"What kind of withdrawal symptoms can we expect, doctor?" asked Jim.  
"Well, thankfully, LSD isn't as addictive and doesn't have the withdrawals that we see in other recreational drugs," the doctor answered. "With any luck at all, your friend will be back to his old self in a few days."

"How about long-term effects?" Grant wanted to know.  
"Again, they aren't severe. He may experience some mild anxiety or depression here and there. The most troubling thing is the flashbacks."

"Flashbacks?"  
"That's right. Usually, the person has no memory of what happens while under the influence. But oftentimes, they will suddenly remember something - usually a negative event. For example, he may remember a time when he was angry or violent toward one of you. Or," he added softly, "he may recall what led to the stab wounds on his arm. Flashbacks can be very emotionally difficult." The doctor smiled at the four. "I'm glad that Mr. Black has so many friends. He's going to need all of the support you can give him for the next few days and weeks."

"He'll have it," Jim assured the doctor. "Can we see him now?"  
"Yes," the doctor replied, "but only two at a time, and only for a few minutes. He needs to rest."

"Max, you should go," Shannon encouraged. "Take Grant with you. Jim and I will go next."

Max offered no resistance, but he was nervous. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and walked to Nicholas' room, with Grant a step behind.

It didn't seem real - Nicholas lying there so still, eyes closed, hooked up to monitors and IVs and an oxygen cannula. At least his color was improving.

A nurse, having just checked his vital signs, was about to leave when she smiled at the two men. "It's okay to talk to him," she said gently. "Even though he's sedated, there's a chance he will hear you and know you're here."

Grant smiled a thank you. Once she had closed the door, he spoke.  
"Hey, Nicholas," he said softly. "The gang is all here, and we're all pulling for you. You're going to be just fine."

Max sat down beside Nicholas' bed and leaned in close to his friend, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hey, buddy. You've got to hurry and get out of here. I need my partner back."

After a few moments, they left the room and allowed Shannon and Jim to come in. Jim, as usual, was stoic, though his eyes could not conceal his worry. Shannon, however, nearly burst into tears as she gently brushed back Nicholas' hair. She kissed his forehead and then had to leave the room before she lost all composure.

"It's been a rough day," Jim commented when the four were together again. "We should go home and get some rest."  
"I'm staying," said Max quickly.

"Max," Jim tried to reason, "you heard the doctor; Nicholas won't be waking up till tomorrow."  
"It doesn't matter," mumbled Max. "I'm not leaving him."

"Max," Grant offered, "He's stable, and he's in a hospital. He's going to be okay." He patted his friend's shoulder. "You've had a hard day. YOU need to rest."

"Look, Grant," Max replied, and it was clear he was trying hard to keep his voice calm. "We still don't know who put the LSD in his medication, but it's a safe bet that whoever it was wanted Nicholas dead. Now, unless you can promise me that this person won't show up here to finish the job, I'm not leaving him alone."

Grant and Jim both looked at the floor. Max was right, and there was no use to argue.

As Grant, Jim, and Shannon prepared to leave, Shannon caught Max in a soft embrace.  
"Promise me you'll at least try to get some rest," she whispered, her eyes tearing up.

"I'll do my best," said Max.  
"We'll take turns staying with him tomorrow," promised Jim.

"Take care of Nicholas," Grant told Max. Then, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze, he added, "and take care of yourself. Call if you need anything."

Max smiled. "Be careful," he told his friends. Then he went back inside Nicholas' room.

After about fifteen minutes, a nurse came inside the room. She could see that Max was comfortable and had no intention of going anywhere.

"I'm sorry," the nurse said to Max, "nobody is supposed to be staying with him overnight."

"I'm not leaving," Max said flatly, in a voice that dared anybody to challenge him.

The nurse smiled knowingly. "But I don't suppose it would hurt anything."  
A few minutes later, she brought him an extra pillow and a couple of blankets. He smiled a thank you as he settled in for a long night.

tbc...


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. Slight language warning. :)

* * *

Chapter 8

The man watched the Land Rover back out of the parking spot and drive away. He frowned. There had only been three. There were supposed to be four. Then he remembered: the brawny blond one had his motorcycle. The man looked around but did not see the motorcycle anywhere. He smiled to himself. The brawny one must have left already. Perfect.

The man put on his lab coat, gathered up his equipment, and walked into the hospital. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him, nothing that attracted any attention, and so he slipped unnoticed to the fourth floor.  
He opened the door soundlessly and peeked into Mr. Black's room. The professor was sleeping soundly, and his IV pole was within ten feet of the door. In thirty seconds it would be done. He readied the syringe and aimed.

"HEY!"

Damn! The blond one was still here!  
Max was on his feet with lightning speed and lunged at the man.

Thinking quickly, the man grabbed a rolling tray table and threw it at Max, knocking him off balance. Max fell and whacked his head against the concrete wall.

He still had time to finish his task...but then he heard footsteps moving swiftly down the hallway, and from the sound of it there was more than one person.

This brief hesitation gave Max time to shake off the cobwebs and get to his feet. He started to give chase about the time that a real doctor and two nurses burst in the door.

"What is going on in here?" the doctor yelled, and the faux doctor slipped out of sight between the nurses.

Max really wanted to catch this guy, because as long as he was free Nicholas' life would be in danger. But he had to make sure Nicholas was okay. Besides, the room was still spinning.

"Are you okay, mister?" asked one of the nurses as she noticed Max unsteady on his feet.  
"Nicholas," Max gasped. "Someone tried to stick a needle in his IV. Is he all right?"

The doctor looked at Max for one incredulous moment, then swiftly turned his attention to Nicholas. After several tense moments, the doctor spoke.

"His vitals are still stable, and there's no indication that his IV has been compromised. He seems fine."

Max breathed a huge sigh of relief, and only then allowed the nurse to examine his head.  
"Doesn't look like there's any permanent damage," she smiled. "You feeling okay?"  
"I'll be fine," Max said, returning her smile.

"I'll get you an ice pack," she offered, and a few minutes later returned with one. She nodded toward Nicholas. "When he wakes up, he's going to be very glad you were here. Do you know who would try to hurt your friend?"  
"No," Max answered, "but I'm damn sure going to find out."

"Well, we're posting a couple of guards at his door to be doubly safe," she told him, "so you should try to get some rest."  
Max nodded, but despite the added security, he knew that sleep would not come tonight.

* * *

The next morning, Jim, Grant, and Shannon arrived at the hospital early. They hadn't called Max first, for fear of catching him asleep and disturbing him. Neither of them had received any calls from Max, so they assumed that all was well.

When they caught sight of the guards posted at Nicholas' door, they grew anxious.  
"What's going on here?" Jim demanded. He reached for the door like he was going to enter, but the guard stopped him.

"I'm sorry, but I need to see some ID from each of you."  
The three teammates complied, and when the guard was satisfied that they were indeed the three friends that Max had said were safe to visit, he smiled.

"Sorry about that. After last night, we have to be careful. You can all go in; the doctor said it was okay, as long as you keep your voices down."

Last night? What had happened last night? they wondered as the guard opened the door and they went inside.  
"Max!" Grant exploded as soon as the door opened. "What the hell happened last night?"

While waiting for Max to answer, the trio took in the scene around them. Nicholas was still sleeping peacefully, though now minus the oxygen cannula and bag of blood products. And Max still looked like hell.

"Someone tried to put something in his IV last night," Max mumbled. "I tried to catch him but he got away."

All three faces turned pale.  
"Good thing you were here, Max," Grant said quietly, his way of admitting he'd been wrong to assume that Nicholas would be safe alone in the hospital.

"Why didn't you call us?" Shannon questioned softly - not accusatory, just concerned.  
"There wasn't any sense in all of us being up all night," Max answered simply.

Jim walked over to lay a fatherly hand on Max's shoulder. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?"  
Max looked at his leader, and he didn't even have to answer the question.

"Max," he chided gently, "You've been up for over twenty-four hours. You have to try to get some sleep."

"How can I sleep, knowing that bastard is still out there?" Max protested, more harshly than he meant to, as Shannon took Nicholas' hand and began to whisper softly to him.

"You won't be any good to Nicholas without some rest, my friend," Jim responded kindly. "The guards are outside, and we'll stay here with him till you get back."

Max considered Jim's words, recognizing the wisdom there. If that clown was going to try to come after his friend again, he wanted to be on his A game.

"All right, you win," Max agreed. "But guards or not, don't leave him alone for a second."  
After getting Jim's promise, Max started to leave.

"Wait, Max," called Shannon. "I'll go with you."  
"You don't have to," Max said softly.

"Max," Shannon's eyes were pleading. "Someone tried to kill Nicholas last night, and you were here and messed up his plans, and he saw you. That puts you in danger too." Max opened his mouth to protest further, but Shannon held up her hand. Her eyes misted over. "We almost lost Nicholas," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. "I can't run the risk of losing you, too."

Max was deeply touched by Shannon's overt expression of concern. If he was in danger, the last thing he wanted to do was put her in danger, too. But blast it! He couldn't say no to her.  
His face curled into a grin. "Come on, then," he told her.

Jim nodded approvingly. Perhaps Shannon's soft touch would help Max get some rest, after all.  
"You got your communicator?" Jim asked. When Shannon nodded, he said, "Contact us if there's any trouble, okay?"  
"Will do," Shannon promised, "and you do the same."

"I'm not sure if I can sleep," Max muttered, as he reclined in the backseat of the vehicle. He had adamantly refused to go home to rest, because he didn't want to be away from Nicholas any more than he had to.  
"Just try," urged Shannon, sitting beside him. "I'll be right here."

"Okay," he said, "but don't let me sleep too long. I want to be there when Nicholas wakes up."  
She gently rubbed his arm, and as Jim had hoped, her soft rhythmic touch lulled Max to sleep within moments.

Shannon listened to Max's even breathing and let her mind wander a bit. There was a question that had been bothering her since they'd found out about the tainted medication. She would ask the guys about it as soon as Max woke up.

tbc...


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. Slight language warning. :)

* * *

Chapter 9

The man watched from the parking lot as the brawny blond and the pretty female got into the back of the Land Rover. For a moment, his mind wandered to what inappropriate things might be happening...but then he realized that the blond one was probably just taking a nap.

Of course, he wouldn't leave the parking lot. He wouldn't leave Black alone that long.

The man had a score to settle with the blond one for wrecking his plans. And the female with him would be quite fun to play with. But not now. Not while their guard was up. He knew there was almost no chance now of getting rid of Black while he was still in the hospital, and once he went home the others would probably stick to him like glue. But sooner or later, they would let their guard down. And he would be there to make his move. He had waited five years. Waiting a little longer wasn't a big deal.

For now, since all four of Black's friends were here, he would bide his time and see if any unforeseen opportunities presented themselves.

* * *

Max awoke after almost two hours. He was relieved to see that Shannon was still there beside him and there had apparently been no trouble.

"Feel any better?" she asked him with a soft smile.  
"Yeah," he replied, returning her smile. "I guess I really needed that."  
"I guess you did," Shannon agreed.  
"Let's go back inside."

Jim and Grant were both glad to see that Max had gotten some much-needed rest, and confirmed that there had been no sign of trouble.

Shannon walked over to take a closer look at their sleeping friend. She spoke softly to him, then smiled and turned to the others. "Is it just me, or does his color look better?"

"I think so, too," concurred Jim. "The doctor was in a little while ago and said that he's doing well. They are going to try waking him up in about six more hours, and if he does okay overnight they may send him home tomorrow."

"That's great news!" Shannon beamed.  
"Of course, there's no way we could let him go home by himself," interjected Grant. "Not when this creep is still out there."  
"He can come stay with me," quipped Max. "We've got the roomie thing figured out already."

Shannon smiled at Max, then grew serious. "Guys, I've been thinking about something," she began. "We know that Nicholas was exposed to the LSD after getting the prescriptions on Wednesday, but he had the headache four days before that."  
"Yeah, he got it right after the bug crew left," Max recalled.

"When I took him to the hospital, we discussed whether the chemicals could have caused it. The doctor said it probably wasn't that," Shannon continued, "but something did, and I'm not convinced that it wasn't something in that apartment."

"Come to think of it," remembered Max, "last night, when I went back to his place..." Max stifled a shudder, remembering what he'd found there. "...I picked up a dull headache myself. I didn't mention it because there were more important things..." His voice trailed off.

"You may be right, Shannon," mused Grant. He glanced at his watch. "We've got a few hours before they wake Nicholas. What do you say we go check it out?"

"Grant, I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Jim in hesitation.  
"I'd have to agree," chimed in Max.

"Look, I know you're worried," responded Grant, "but we may be able to pick up a clue as to who this guy is. The quicker we can get over there, the sooner we know who we're dealing with, the safer Nicholas will be." Grant's brown eyes met Jim's. "He's still going to have to take it easy for a few days after he gets out of here. I'd much rather go now, while you and the guards are here to look after him."

Jim conceded the point. "Fine, but you're not going alone," he said firmly.  
"Wasn't planning to," Grant replied. "I'm taking Shannon with me."

Grant looked askance at Max, and Max nodded subtly, an unspoken sign that it was okay that he sat out this one. Normally, Max and Grant might have teamed up on a task like this, but right now Max just wanted to be with his friend.  
"Let's go," Shannon urged. "We need to be back by five."  
"Be safe," Jim called out behind them.

* * *

The man watched as the pretty female emerged again from the hospital door, this time with the brown-skinned one. He watched as they climbed into the Land Rover and pulled out of the parking space.  
Were they actually leaving? He could hardly believe his luck!

For a moment, he considered making another attempt on the professor's life, but thought better of it. The brawny blond was still there, and he'd be prepared this time. But these two...especially the female...might be fun to play with indeed.

He wondered where they were going, and decided he really needed to know. So he pulled out behind them. Knowing they'd be watching for tailgaters, he stayed six cars behind until he was absolutely sure they were going to Black's apartment.

He gave them time to get inside the apartment before he pulled into the adjacent parking space and went into the unit next door. Yes, this would be fun, indeed..

* * *

Grant unlocked the door and he and Shannon went inside and began to look around. After just a few moments, Grant's expert eye noticed something amiss in the living room.  
"Look, Shannon," he whispered, pointing toward the corner of the ceiling. Shannon followed his finger and saw a tiny camera and speaker.

"Somebody has been watching and listening," Grant said in disgust.  
"Could they have been here all along?" Shannon wondered.  
"I don't think so," Grant replied. He grabbed a stepstool and climbed up closer to the equipment. "There is fresh dust around the holes in the sheet rock. These holes were put here within the past few days."  
"The exterminator," Shannon mused.  
"Probably," Grant confirmed. "I'm sure Nicholas never noticed them."

* * *

The man in the unit next door cursed again. That brown-skinned one was too smart for his own good! It took him no time at all to find the camera and speaker. He would pay dearly for that! he thought as he punched a button on his keyboard.

* * *

Shannon's eyes narrowed. "Grant," she began.  
He turned to face her. "Headache?" he asked.  
She nodded. "You, too?"  
"Just started," he replied softly. "That settles it. Something here caused Nicholas to have those headaches. And I'd be willing to bet it's connected to whoever installed that speaker and camera."

"Grant," Shannon said tensely, "we have to get out of here."  
"In a bit," he promised. "I just want to check out Nicholas' bedroom first, to see if there's anything strange up there."  
"Okay, but hurry up. I'll be right behind you."

Grant took the steps two at a time. Shannon started to follow, but then her eyes fell on the bloody mess in the kitchen that still hadn't been cleaned up. My God, she thought, fresh tears springing up in her eyes. No wonder Max hadn't wanted me to see this last night. She realized anew how lucky her friend had been to survive - and her heart surged with fresh gratitude for Max.

His reaction when Grant mentioned the LSD...intuition, instinct, gut feeling, whatever you wanted to call it...had been uncanny. He had been on his way to Nicholas in seconds; none of the rest of them had even considered the implications until several moments later. And thank God for that. It was the only reason Nicholas was still alive.

* * *

The man cursed yet again. The brown-skinned man just couldn't leave well enough alone, could he? It wasn't enough that he found the stuff in the living room; he had to nose around in the bedroom, too. Well, lucky for him that's where the secret weapon was.

I'll teach you to mind your own business, he thought evilly. And then once you 're out of commission, I'll have some fun with your pretty friend...

He pushed a button and watched as the mist entered Nicholas' bedroom. Then he prepared himself for his visit with the pretty female.

* * *

Grant peered around the corners of the upstairs ceiling. As he'd suspected, there were newly installed cameras and speakers here too. This guy is sick, Grant thought to himself. He also noticed that his headache was more severe here than it had been downstairs, which didn't really surprise him.

Grant was scrutinizing one of the speakers, located near an air vent, when he noticed a fine mist spray out of it. Immediately - but too late - he recognized it as some sort of knockout gas.

"Shan-!" he managed to squeak out before everything went black and he collapsed on the floor.

tbc...


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 10

Shannon did not know how long she stood there, reflecting on the bloody stains in the kitchen, but suddenly she heard a sound from upstairs.

"Grant?!" she called out, immediately concerned when there was no response.

She ran up the stairs to the bedroom, and instantly became aware of two things: Grant was unconscious next to Nicholas' bed, and there was something coming out of the air vent.

Instinctively, Shannon knew it was the gas that had knocked Grant out, and she held her breath to avoid breathing it in herself. Her mind was racing. She had to get Grant out of there somehow. But how? He outweighed her by at least 75 pounds. She would have to drag him; it was the only way.

With an unspoken apology, Shannon lifted Grant's shoulders until she could reach underneath them. She slid both arms under his and clasped her hands across his chest. Then she began to drag Grant 's lifeless body toward the bedroom door.

It was slow going. Shannon felt as if her lungs would burst, but she knew if she dared take one single breath they would both be out for God knew how long. She could feel Grant breathing, so she clung to the hope that it was just knockout gas and wouldn't do any more damage.

Shannon managed to drag Grant 's body to the top of the stairs, just outside the bedroom, and closed the bedroom door behind them. Her lungs were bursting now. She had to take a breath. She just hoped the gas had been confined to the bedroom.

Quickly she gasped in a breath. She did not pass out, she thought triumphantly. Just as she was trying to figure out how to get Grant down the stairs without hurting him, he began to stir a bit. Shannon decided to wait and let him come around before proceeding further.

Just then, she heard a noise from downstairs. Sure that Grant would be okay for the moment, she went down the steps to investigate. As she got to the bottom step, a large hand grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth.

"Hello there, pretty one," came the voice, dripping with evil.

Shannon could not scream but began to flail her arms and legs, desperate to get free. "I love a lady with spunk," the man sneered. "How about the two of us play a little game?"

Shannon continued to writhe in the man's arms, but his grip was so strong...

Grant shook his head slowly as sight and sound began to creep back into his world. What had hit him? He recalled staring at that speaker, near the vent, and then...oh, yeah! The gas! It must have knocked him out. But where was Shannon? Did she get it, too?

Then Grant heard a shuffling noise from the bottom of the stairs. He squinted, trying to focus, then sucked in a breath: that creep had Shannon! Grant wanted to spring to his feet and fight him, but the aftereffects of the knockout gas were just too strong. So he did the only thing he could think of at the time - he whipped off his shoe and threw it at the guy!

Suddenly, something hard hit the man forcefully in the back of the head - not enough to knock him out, certainly, but enough to stun him momentarily. What the hell? he thought, and his grip lessened just enough for Shannon to wrench out of his arms, rush to the other side of the room, find Nicholas' phone and call 911.

The man, on the other hand, angry that his plan had once again been foiled and oblivious to the fact that the police were now on their way, took off upstairs after Grant. The two men began to scuffle...normally, Grant could have taken him easily, but he was still slightly addled.

It was a nearly even match...

Shannon hung up the phone and looked to see where her adversary had gone. To her chagrin, he was tussling with Grant at the top of the stairs! She instinctively ran into the kitchen..trying to ignore the bloodstains..and grabbed an iron skillet. She rushed upstairs and swung it at the man's head.

The frying pan met its mark.

One minute later, the man lay unconscious and Shannon was helping Grant shakily to his feet.

"You all right?" she asked softly.

"I'm okay," Grant answered. "Thanks for the assist."

"I could say the same," she smiled as she guided him slowly down the stairs and into a chair, and brought his shoe to him.

"How about you?" he questioned, suddenly recalling that she had been in the clutches of the stranger a moment earlier.

"I'm fine, Grant," she assured him.

The sound of sirens grew closer, and within moments a uniformed officer was knocking on the doorjamb, his gun raised in his other hand.

"What's going on here? Oh, hello, Grant," he greeted as he recognized the IT specialist with whom the police often consulted.

"Hey, Todd!" Grant grinned, shaking the officer's hand. He turned to Shannon. "Todd, this is Shannon Reed. She's a friend of mine, and we work together occasionally. Shannon, this is Todd Spencer."

"Grant's a great help to us when we need some computer expertise," Todd smiled, shaking her hand warmly. "It's nice to meet you."

Todd looked around, trying to determine the reason 911 had been called. "So...what's going on?"

Grant succinctly explained what had happened at Nicholas' apartment and what they were doing there. Todd frowned.

"Wow! But you guys are okay, right?" he asked quickly.

"We're fine," Grant assured him.

Todd went upstairs at a tight clip and quickly slapped handcuffs on the stranger, who was just regaining consciousness. As they came back downstairs and started toward the squad car, they were interrupted by an older lady who walked up to the apartment door in a huff.

"What is going on here?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you are...?"

"I'm Norma Meadows. I own these apartments," she replied. She looked pointedly at the prisoner. "What are you doing with Mister Cameron?" She thought for a split second. "And, for that matter, what's he doing in Mister Black's apartment?"

Grant's head was spinning. He had a feeling that this mystery was about to blow wide open.

"Ms. Meadows," he began, "is this man a tenant of yours?"

"Yes, Steven Cameron. He just moved into thirty-two."

Grant's heart pounded. Nicholas lives in thirty-three.

"Todd," he addressed the officer, "we have reason to believe that there is evidence in this man's apartment that will link him to what happened to our friend Nicholas. We'd love to look around today, but whatever gas knocked me out is still floating around. Is there any way that you could seal off the apartment until tomorrow? We'll come back once the gas has dissipated and do some checking."

"Oh, absolutely! I just adore Mister Black and I'll do anything to find out who hurt him!" said the kindly lady.

"For you, Grant, I'll take care of it," promised Todd.

"I appreciate it, man," Grant beamed.

"Do you all want to follow us down to headquarters and give us your statements?" asked the officer, though it wasn't really a question.

"Sure," responded Grant. "But we have to be done in three hours. Our friend has been in a medically induced coma and they're going to try waking him this afternoon."

"Not a problem," answered Todd.

"Please give Mister Black my best," urged Mrs. Meadows. "I will make sure this place is cleaned up before he comes back home," she added quietly.

"We will," Grant promised. "Thank you."

He and Shannon climbed into the Escalade and pulled out behind the squad car. While he drove, Shannon took the opportunity to call Max and Jim to let them know what happened.

Max answered the phone, quickly assured Shannon that Nicholas was still safe, then his eyes grew wide as he listened to all that had happened.

"Jim, you'll never believe this," he grinned. "The guy has been arrested."

"What? How?" Jim asked, standing up, and Max filled him in.

"They're giving their statements now and they'll be here afterward."

Two hours later, Grant and Shannon arrived at the hospital and finished filling in the gaps regarding all that had happened that afternoon.

Max gave a low whistle. "Unbelievable," he said. "So what have they charged this guy with?"

"So far, two counts of assault, because he attacked both of us," Grant answered. "That will hold him for now. I have a feeling once we talk to Nicholas and poke around in Cameron's apartment, there will be much more."

Jim frowned. "Yes, but we don't know how Nicholas will be once he wakes up. At the very least, he will be vulnerable for quite a while. We have to be very careful. We don't want to set him back."

The other three nodded in understanding.

After a few more moments passed, the doctor came in. Seeing that all four friends were in the room, he smiled. "Are you all ready?" he asked. Seeing nods all around, he continued. "Okay. Let's do this."

tbc...


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 11

"Nicholas, you're taking too long!" Max was saying as he tapped his foot impatiently.  
"It's chess, Max. You're supposed to think about your moves before you do them," Nicholas replied dryly.

"I don't have time for this," Max retorted, sounding so exasperated that his friend couldn't tell whether he was kidding or serious. "Move already!"  
"But, Max..."  
"You've got five seconds."

Really, Max?  
"Fine," Nicholas grunted as he moved his chess piece. Exactly two seconds later, Max countered, and Nicholas stared incredulously. It was a great move.

"Genius," Nicholas said in awe. "How the hell did you do that?"  
Max grinned. "Piece of cake. Your move, Nicholas. Five seconds."  
Nicholas continued to stare at the chess board in disbelief.  
"Nicholas? Nicholas!"

* * *

"Nicholas?"  
He couldn't figure out what was going on. One moment he was back in Max's condo, reliving the chess match that had ended in raucous laughter and spilled pieces a few days before; the next moment the dream slipped away and he was aware that someone was calling his name.

Not Max, though the voice was male. Unfamiliar.

In the next few seconds, he realized that someone was holding his left hand. Probably Shannon, he realized. In his mind, he was smiling, and he wondered absently if it showed on his face. Then he noticed that someone's hand was resting gently on his right shoulder. It felt like a big hand. Max, more than likely, he reasoned.

His body stirred slightly. He shook his head from side to side a couple of times, then gingerly opened his eyes.  
He blinked a few times at first. The lights were a little bright, but they had been dimmed. That was a good thing.  
"Nicholas," came the voice again, from the man in the white coat. A doctor, then. But what was he doing in a hospital?

His eyes, now focused, quickly took in his surroundings. There were Jim and Grant, standing next to the window, looking stoic but worried. As he'd suspected, Shannon and Max were flanking each side.

"Nicholas," the doctor was saying. "Can you hear me?"  
"Yes," he responded, his voice - getting used to talking again - barely above a whisper.

"How do you feel?"  
Nicholas considered that for a moment. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel, because he couldn't recall what had brought him here in the first place. He took a quick inventory but couldn't find anything that was really hurting.

"I feel okay," he answered, for he didn't know what else to say.  
"How's your head?" the doctor asked specifically.

So that was it. Nicholas thought back. His brain was a little fuzzy, but that was probably because he had been asleep for a while. Oh, yes. The last thing he remembered was going out to dinner with his team. And he had had a headache that night.

So that was it, then. But had a headache put him in the hospital? At any rate, it wasn't hurting now.  
"It feels fine," Nicholas answered, his voice gaining strength now. "Just a little fuzzy."

"Well, that's to be expected, considering all that you've been through." The doctor finished his examination of his patient and smiled at the team. "He seems all right, but there's probably a great deal he doesn't remember. Just take things slowly and let me know if there's anything you need."

"Thanks, doc," Jim said on behalf of the entire team. Then the doctor wad gone and Nicholas was alone with his friends.

"Hey, there," he smiled.  
"Hey, yourself," Shannon answered softly, squeezing his hand. "Welcome back."

"Where have I been?" he asked. Then there was a growing sense of panic. "What happened to me? Why am I here? How long have I been here?"

"Shhh, Nicholas, just relax," soothed Max, giving his friend's shoulder a gentle pat. "What matters is that you're safe, and you're going to be fine."  
"We know you've got questions, buddy," Grant chimed in. "And we'll make sure they get answered. But we have to take it easy. All right?"  
Nicholas nodded. He knew that his team had his best interest in mind; they always did.

Max sighed. God, it was good to have him back. He exchanged glances with the others. It seemed as if there were no signs of the volatility that had transpired between Nicholas and his friends just days before. Oh, he knew that Nicholas still had a lot of healing to do...physically and emotionally... But as long as his friend didn't shut him out, he would be there to help.

"So what am I doing here?" Nicholas asked, after the friends had made small talk for a half hour or so.  
Jim stepped forward. "Nicholas, we don't have to talk about this right now."

"Jim, I have gaps in my memory," Nicholas protested mildly. "It feels like parts of my brain are missing. It's driving me batty. Wouldn't that bother you?"  
"Yes, but the doctor said to take it slow-"  
"I'm all right, Jim. Really."

Jim sighed. He didn't really blame Nicholas. He'd want to know, too.  
"Okay, Nicholas, but if it gets to be too overwhelming-"  
"I'll tell you. I promise."

"What's the last thing you remember? Let's start there."  
Nicholas thought for a moment. "Our dinner," he answered, shooting a look toward Max, "when you got back from your flight."  
Max nodded.

"What day was that?" Nicholas asked.  
"Thursday."  
"And today is...?"  
"Saturday," Grant offered.  
"So have I been here for two days?" Nicholas wondered out loud.  
"No," Grant replied. "Just one. What else do you remember about the dinner?"

Nicholas closed his eyes and thought a moment. Blast, it was hard to think with a fuzzy brain! Max was about to ask about his well-being when he opened them again. "I had a headache."

Grant nodded. "And...?"  
"My stomach felt funny. I didn't eat much." Nicholas shot a look at Max, remembering. "I spilled my coffee."  
"You were trembling," Max confirmed.  
"So did I catch some sort of bug? Is that what landed me here?"  
It was Grant 's turn to sigh. "In a matter of speaking."  
"Then why can't I remember?" Nicholas asked, becoming agitated.

Max's grip on his shoulder tightened, and Shannon spoke for the first time in several moments, after receiving an encouraging nod from Grant.  
"Nicholas," she said softly, squeezing his hand, "we have reason to believe that someone drugged you and wanted you dead. The person is in custody now, and in a day or two - when you're stronger - we'll try to figure everything out."

"Then this..." Nicholas pointed at the heavy bandage on his left arm... "wasn't an accident?"  
"We don't think so," Grant answered, looking for the first time that he was going to lose his composure.

"That's enough for now," Jim said with finality, holding up a hand when Nicholas opened his mouth to protest. "Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Nicholas sighed. He knew he wasn't getting any more answers tonight, despite the fact that he had even more questions than before.  
"I am pretty tired," he admitted.  
Jim stood up. "We'd better go."

Nicholas hated to see his friends go home, but he didn't really feel like staying awake to talk to them any longer. He closed his eyes as Shannon kissed his forehead and the others said their goodbyes.

Jim paused at the door and looked at Max, who hadn't moved. He knew Max had his motorcycle there and could come and go at any time, but he expected the four of them to walk out together.  
"Max?" he called. "You coming?"  
"I'm staying here, Jim," he replied.

Jim sighed audibly. There were so many reasons why Max needed to go home. Nicholas was okay, Cameron - whoever he was - was in jail, Max hadn't gone home last night...

"Max, you don't need to do this-"  
"Jim, don't," Max interrupted. His voice was low but dangerously tense. "What if he has a flashback and nobody's here?"

Jim had forgotten about the flashbacks, the possible residual effect of the LSD that the doctor had discussed with them. "Point taken, Max, but one of us can stay with him tonight. You didn't go home last night. You need sleep, and you can't get any here."  
"I won't get any at home, either," he countered. "No matter who is here with him."

Jim knew there was no changing Max's mind, so he just gave him a fatherly back slap and walked away.  
Max could be such a worrywart sometimes.  
Max returned to his chair. Nicholas did not stir. Asleep, then. Max settled in for a long night, hoping his friend wouldn't need him but determined to be there if he did.

tbc...


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 12

They were crawling...

Baby spiders...crawling up and down his arms..

The knife...

The blood...

Stabbing them...Killing them...

Blood everywhere...

His blood...

He was killing himself...

"No!"

Nicholas woke up in a cold sweat and a blind panic. His heart was pounding and his breathing came in heavy gasps.

And Max was there.

"Nicholas, take it easy," he whispered, his voice soothing, his lips just a few inches from Nicholas' ear.

"Spiders..."

"It was just a dream. You're all right." Max rubbed his friend's arm gently, and the gesture quickly calmed him. Within moments, Nicholas' vital signs were normal again.

Nicholas opened his eyes and looked at Max with gratitude. "I'm okay now. Thanks." Max grinned in response as Nicholas continued. "I didn't know you were still here."

"What can I say?" Max joked, relieved that Nicholas was calmer now. "I missed having a roommate."

Nicholas smiled at him for a second, then grew serious. "Max," he began, "I know what happened to my arm."

"You okay to talk about it?" Max asked with concern.

Nicholas nodded. "There were spiders crawling on me. I tried to kill them with a steak knife."

Max shuddered, knowing what the drug had done to his friend. Nicholas stared at his still-bandaged arm for a moment, then looked back at Max. His voice was quiet. "But there weren't really spiders, were there?"

Max shook his head, his voice equally quiet. "I don't think so, pal."

Max looked deeply into his friend's eyes. He saw the fear there, and it grated at him that he couldn't take it away.

"Max, what was I drugged with? What would have made me...?" His voice trailed off.

Max hesitated. Jim hadn't wanted Nicholas to know tonight. He'd just woken up a few hours ago, for heaven's sake! Max was worried about how much his friend could take in in one evening. He'd been through so much already...

"Nicholas, can we talk about this in the morning? You really should rest-"

"Max, please!" Nicholas gripped Max's arm, a little tighter than he meant to, taking his friend by surprise. He quickly loosened his grip and met Max's eyes with his own. "I have to know."

Max sighed. There would be no sleep now, for either of them, until they talked about this. "It was LSD," he finally responded. "That's why you can't remember anything after Thursday night. The doctor said some of your memories might return as flashbacks."

"Like the dream about the spiders," ventured Nicholas.

"Exactly," replied Max.

"But how-?"

"Your headache pills," Max anticipated his question. "And before you ask, Nicholas, I can't tell you who or why right now. Grant has some more investigating to do and then you'll probably have to help us with those pieces of the puzzle."

Nicholas nodded his understanding. "Okay. I just have one more question."

"What is it, pal?"

"What happened the night...?" Nicholas pointed to his arm. "How did I get here?"

Max sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. The memory of that night...last night...was still raw. He didn't want to talk about it, but he knew that Nicholas would not rest until he did. He was funny like that - so detailed, so analytical, just had to know the whole story.

"You were...not yourself," Max began, not meeting his buddy's gaze. How could he tell Nicholas the way he had acted toward his friends? True, it wasn't his fault, but still...

"We suspected you were being drugged and had your prescriptions tested. Once we figured out it was LSD, I remembered those experiments from the 50s and I..." Max's voice trailed off for a bit. "I panicked. Rushed over to your place and..." A violent shudder went through Max's body. He could say no more.

Nicholas noticed the shudder and reached for Max's arm again. "You found me," he whispered as the realization hit home. "You saved me."

All Max could do was nod. Tears welled up in his throat and he didn't trust himself to speak.

"Oh, Max," Nicholas whispered. "I'm so sorry you had to find me like that...but I'm so grateful you were there. Thank you."

Max smiled at Nicholas. "I couldn't do without my buddy, now, could I?" He patted his friend's arm. "Get some sleep, pal. I'll be right here if you need me."

Nicholas smiled his gratitude and allowed his eyes to close. The rest of the night passed in peaceful slumber for both men.

* * *

The next morning was Sunday. When the others arrived at the hospital, they couldn't believe their eyes. Nicholas was sitting up in bed, wearing his own clothes instead of hospital issue, laughing at something Max had just said. If they hadn't witnessed firsthand what had taken place in the last few days, they would have never believed it had even happened.

"Nicholas!" Shannon greeted joyfully, rushing over to give him a hug. "You look like you're feeling better."

"Much better," Nicholas smiled.

Shannon had a warm hug for Max, too. "Even you look rested," she observed, "for someone who spent two nights away from his own bed."

Max and Nicholas shared a look. It was true. They each had slept better knowing the other was there.

Shannon had Nicholas distracted with small talk, so Jim questioned Max. "How'd he do last night?" he asked quietly.

"He had one flashback," Max replied. "I told him about the LSD."

Jim nodded. He'd have had to; Nicholas would have demanded it. Then he raised an eyebrow, as if to ask what the flashback was about.

"The stab wounds..." he answered. "He thought spiders were crawling on him."

Grant, who was listening, sucked in his breath and let out a low curse.

"Hallucination," Jim said, and Max nodded. He felt sick to his stomach that Nicholas had gone through that. At the same time, the fact that it wasn't an actual suicide attempt comforted him; it meant that now that the drugs were out of his system it wouldn't happen again.

"He was lucky," Max said quietly, leaving the rest of his thought unspoken: Lucky he didn't die.

"Lucky you showed up," Jim finished for him, with a soft smile.

"So, Shannon," Nicholas was saying, and the rest of the team turned their attention back to him, "You said yesterday that you thought someone was drugging me...?"

"I'll be honest, Nicholas," answered Grant, "all we have right now is a name: Steven Cameron. Ring a bell?"

Nicholas furrowed his brow. "Cameron," he repeated. "Seems like I should remember that name."

"Maybe it will come to you later," Grant reassured him. "Anyway, he moved into the apartment next door to you less than two weeks ago. Yesterday, Shannon and I got to thinking that there may have been something in your apartment that caused your initial headaches, so we went out to look around."

Grant 's voice became quieter. "We found tiny speakers and cameras planted in your apartment, both upstairs and downstairs."

Nicholas looked shocked. "So he was watching me?"

"And listening," Shannon confirmed. "We suspect he's the one who spiked your headache medicine with the LSD. What we don't know yet is how...or why."

Nicholas looked puzzled for a moment, remembering something. Or at least he thought he did; blast this fuzzy brain! "Shannon, do I remember you saying yesterday that Cameron was arrested?"

She nodded, and he continued. "How did that happen?"

A pause. "He attacked both of us," Grant responded quietly.

Nicholas went pale for a moment, then regained his color as Grant assured him that he and Shannon were both fine. Nicholas caught Max looking intently at him, and squeezed his arm to reassure his friend that he was okay.

Grant told Nicholas what had happened at the apartment the day before. "Shannon and I are going back to your place today and see if we can find out anything else."

"Okay," Nicholas replied, "but be careful, all right? He may have the place booby-trapped or something."

"We will," Grant promised. He reached over to give Nicholas an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "It sure is good to have you back, pal."

Nicholas smiled. "It's good to be here."

A few minutes later, after Grant and Shannon left to revisit the apartments, the doctor came in and told Nicholas he was free to go home. "Looks like I get my roomie back for a few days," Max said with a smile after the nurse finished his discharge, as Jim went to get the Land Rover.

Nicholas tried to return the smile, but he faltered. Instantly, Max was concerned.

"What is it, buddy?"

Nicholas frowned for a moment, then looked up at his friend, whose eyes were brimming with worry, and tried to reassure him.

"I'm okay," he said quickly. "I just can't figure out why someone would want to watch and listen to everything I did...in my own home, where there's supposed to be an expectation of privacy!" he answered. "Did he watch me sleep? Did he watch me get dressed in the morning? What did he see and hear?"

Ordinarily, Max might have cracked some sort of joke, but this wasn't funny, and Nicholas' anxiety was increasing by the second. "Shhhh," Max soothed. "It's going to be okay, Nicholas. We will make sure this guy doesn't hurt you anymore."

* * *

At the local jail, Steven Cameron smiled to himself. After spending the past twenty-four hours analyzing the various movements of the officers on duty, he knew exactly how he would make his escape. By that time, Professor Black would be out of the hospital and would think that everything was back to normal.

He looked forward to being the last face Nicholas Black ever saw.

tbc...


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 13

Grant and Shannon pulled into the apartment complex, Todd Spencer's squad car right behind them. Norma Meadows spotted them out the window of her cottage and met them outside Cameron's unit to unlock the door.

"How's Mister Black?" she asked anxiously.

"Doing much better," replied Shannon. "He may even get to go home today."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" she smiled, overjoyed. "I've been so worried about him."

"Are you ready, Todd?" Grant asked.

"Let's check this place out," he replied, search warrant in hand.

"Be careful," Shannon warned, remembering Nicholas' warning about watching for booby traps.

The downstairs room was unremarkable. However, when the trio ascended the stairs, they were taken aback by what they saw.

The entire upstairs bedroom had been converted into a massive security room. There were two large-screen television sets displaying a total of seven camera feeds - two in the living room, two in the kitchen, two in Nicholas' bedroom, and one at his front door. Each camera feed was also equipped with sound.

Near the television sets was a desktop computer. On the keyboard, there was a series of three buttons, labeled Loop 1, Loop 2, and Loop 3. There was also a larger button beside the keyboard that was labeled "Gas."

"All right," Grant began, "the first thing we need to do is verify that this is Nicholas' apartment we are looking at. Shannon, why don't you go next door and we'll see if we can see and hear you."

Grant and Todd watched as Shannon approached Nicholas' front door and entered the living room.

"Let me know if you can hear me, guys," she said.

Grant keyed the communicator. "We read you, Shannon," he responded. "Try upstairs."

As Shannon passed by the kitchen, she was relieved to see that the bloodstains were now gone and the walls and ceiling had a fresh coat of paint. Nicholas probably wouldn't be back for a couple of days - Max would see to that, she smiled - but when he did, his place would be ready.

In Nicholas' bedroom, the test was repeated successfully.

"Stay where you are, Shannon," Grant advised. "I'm sending Todd over there."

"Look at this, Todd," Grant stated. He got up from his chair and traced the camera and speaker wires to the point where they disappeared into the sheet rock wall.

"Freshly drilled holes," Todd observed.

"Let's make sure we verify where they go."

Grant placed an orange band around one of the living room camera wires and unplugged it from the security system DVR. Todd joined Shannon inside Nicholas' apartment and pulled the living room camera out of its resting place. Sure enough, there was the orange band.

"Got it, Grant," confirmed Todd.

"Okay, guys," Grant spoke into the communicator, "I'm going to play some audio files now. If you hear or feel ANYTHING, let me know immediately."

"Will do, Grant," replied Shannon out loud, knowing he could hear her.

Grant hit the button marked Loop 1. "Anything?" he asked, after about a minute.

"I don't hear anything, Grant, but my head feels funny."

"I was about to say the same thing," remarked Todd.

Grant quickly cut the audio. This loop must be the key to how his headaches started, he muttered to himself.

"Okay, here goes the next one," he stated.

"We don't hear anything," Shannon answered after another minute went by.

Grant followed the same procedure for Loop 3, and received the same response.

"Why didn't we hear anything on any of them?" Shannon frowned.

"I have a feeling that there's more to these audio files than what we can actually hear," Grant replied. "I'm going to copy them onto a flash drive and run them through a program on my laptop. Right now, I want to do one last test," he continued, "but you two have to make sure you're out of the bedroom before I do it."

Once Shannon and the officer were out of the bedroom and standing on the top step, Grant continued.

"Now, I'm going to count to three and then I'm going to hit this button marked 'Gas.' I want you to watch for that fine mist I saw just before I passed out. Once you see it, close the bedroom door quickly so you don't fall victim to it. Okay?"

Once he received confirmation, he counted to three and hit the button. Almost immediately what looked like a plume of smoke wafted out of the air vent in the bedroom.

"There it is!" yelled Shannon and immediately slammed the door.

"Grant, we saw it!"

Grant quickly keyed the communicator. "I could see it on the camera, too," he responded anxiously. "You guys okay?"

"We're fine, Grant," officer Spencer assured him. "I say we've seen enough. Let's get out of here and check out those audio files."

Grant started to agree, then something caught his eye. "I'll meet you downstairs in a second," he replied absently.

"What is it, Grant?" Shannon questioned, a bit nervously.

Grant walked over to a corkboard hanging to the right of the television sets. He'd noticed it earlier but had paid no mind. This time, the articles stuck there with a push pin caught his attention. He removed them, then responded to Shannon's anxious inquiry.

"I think I know why this guy was after Nicholas," he said, his voice almost a whisper, as he started downstairs to meet his friends.

* * *

Grant and Shannon met the others at Max's condo, accompanied by officer Spencer, whom Grant introduced to the rest of the team. Nicholas was clearly still weak from his ordeal, but was feeling better and quickly returning to his old self. All of them were anxious to find out who was targeting Nicholas and why.

"Nicholas," Grant began, "when I asked you if you knew Steven Cameron, you said that it seemed like you should remember the name."

"Right. But I've racked my brain and I can't place it."

"How about William Cameron?" Grant asked, wanting to see what Nicholas could recall before revealing what he'd discovered in the apartment.

Everyone watched Nicholas to see what his answer would be. Finally, after a minute or so, he snapped his fingers.

"Of course!" he yelled triumphantly, then quickly filled the others in.

"William Cameron was a student in my drama class at the university about five years ago," he explained. "He was a technology major. At the beginning of the semester, he seemed like a really good kid - polite, smart, studious. But as time went on he got more and more obsessed with using technology to manipulate other people.

He started turning in papers on voyeurism, subliminal messages, mind control...I tried talking to him but he refused to listen. Then I heard that someone on campus was videotaping female students in their dorm rooms, and I just knew it was him."

Nicholas paused for a moment, then continued. "I went to the Dean of Students with a couple of his papers, and the decision was made to dismiss him from the university."

"And he blamed you," Grant guessed, and Nicholas nodded.

"I suppose he did. I found out later that William had gotten into drugs..." Nicholas' face lost all color.

"Let me guess...LSD?" Shannon asked gently, placing a hand on his arm. Nicholas nodded again.

"He was institutionalized for a while but then went back to using drugs." Nicholas' voice grew quiet. "One day, while on a bad acid trip, William jumped off a fifth-story balcony to his death."

Nicholas shuddered at the memory as Shannon wordlessly tried to comfort him.

"But what does all of this have to do with the man we have locked up downtown?" officer Spencer wanted to know.

"Steven Cameron," Grant responded, "is William Cameron's brother."

tbc...


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 14

"What?!" came the chorus of incredulous replies.

"How did you figure that out, Grant?" asked Jim.

Grant produced the three newspaper clippings he had found earlier, which up to now he hadn't shared with any of the others.

"I found these in Cameron's apartment," he explained, and laid them on the table for the others to see.

The first was from the local newspaper, detailing the dismissal from college and subsequent arrest of William Cameron.

"Apparently, after the university dismissed him, he was arrested on those campus voyeurism charges you mentioned, Nicholas," Grant explained. "He got off with probation, but the damage to his career hopes was done."

Grant indicated the second article, which was a profile of Nicholas from the campus newspaper. Nicholas' blood ran cold and he shivered a little, prompting Max to lay a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.

"He blames me for what happened to his brother," Nicholas said quietly, almost sadly.

"It wasn't your fault, buddy," Grant responded, feeling bad for his friend. "You had to do what you did in order to protect the other students. But, yes, I'd say it's accurate to say he blames you."

"What about the third article?" Max asked.

"This is how I figured out Steven Cameron is William's brother," Grant explained. The third article was William Cameron's obituary, listing Steven as his only surviving sibling.

"So in Cameron's mind, what happened to his brother...the drug use, the hospitalization, and ultimately his death...was all a result of his getting kicked out of the university," Jim observed.

"And it was all my fault," added Nicholas.

Max eyed his friend carefully, trying to determine whether Nicholas was merely verbalizing Cameron's perspective or if he was really feeling guilty about what had happened.

"But it wasn't your fault, Nicholas," Max reminded him softly.

"In my heart, I know that," replied Nicholas, "but it doesn't make me feel any better."

"I wouldn't feel too sorry for this guy if I were you, pal," said Grant. "I still haven't showed you what we found in his apartment."

Five pairs of curious eyes gazed at Grant as he loaded the flash drive containing the audio files into his laptop.

"Cameron's computer contained three different audio loops," he began. "Shannon and Todd listened to all three of them, but never actually heard anything out of the ordinary. I think I may know why."

Grant punched some buttons on his keyboard as he spoke. "Something Nicholas said earlier reinforced the theory I have. If I'm right, you're about to hear what was actually on this tape."

Grant pushed play, and they heard Steven Cameron's voice: "Your head hurts. The pain is awful. It's the worst headache you've ever had. You need to take a painkiller. Your head will not stop hurting without your pain medication."

"Subliminal messages," observed Jim, and Max cursed under his breath.

"Right, Jim." Grant looked up at Nicholas. "You said that was one of his interests. We believe he played this loop continuously from day one; that's why you never could get rid of your headache. It was playing the night Max found you, and he played it the first day Shannon and I went to check out your apartment."

"But what would be the point?" Todd wanted to know.

"I think there were two," Grant replied.

"I can guess one," Nicholas chimed in before Grant could continue. "William Cameron was in an institution for a while. His brother would have probably liked to send me there too."

"I think that's part of it," Grant agreed. "The other part is that he wanted you to keep taking your medication because it was laced with LSD."

"The drug his brother took," interjected Todd.

"Exactly. All of the physical symptoms you had: the upset stomach, the shaking, the sweating, the loss of appetite, the dilated pupils, the rapid breathing and heartbeat...all textbook effects of LSD use."

"But how did Cameron get the LSD into my medications?" Nicholas wanted to know.

"I think I can answer that one," responded Shannon. "I think Cameron was your exterminator. He ran you out of your apartment for three days while he planted his equipment, and while he had the key to your place he made a copy for himself."

Grant smiled at Shannon's deduction. "He had some sort of knockout gas piped into the air vent in your bedroom," he added. "We believe he used it the night he spiked your medications, so you'd stay asleep, and then he just used his key to let himself in."

"If that's the case, Cameron would have had any number of opportunities to kill Nicholas," Max put in. "Why draw it out like he did?"

"I think Nicholas was spot-on," Grant answered quietly. "I think Cameron wanted to drive him mad, and I think we'll see that with these other two audio loops."

Grant looked Nicholas in the eye, suddenly feeling apprehensive. "Nicholas," he said gently, "these may be difficult for you to hear."

"I appreciate your concern, Grant," Nicholas answered softly, "but I want to."

"Still, you've been through so much already," Grant persisted. "We don't have to do this now. Maybe if we waited a couple more days-"

"Grant," Nicholas interrupted, "I'll be okay. I have to do this. I have to know."

Grant hesitated for a moment. "Okay," he finally agreed, "but if you need me to stop..."

Nicholas smiled. "I'll let you know."

Grant pushed another keyboard button, and the hidden message in loop 2 began to play...

You hate teaching. Your students don't listen to you. Your students don't respect you.

As he listened to Cameron's cold voice coming through the speaker, Nicholas recalled being in class two days prior, and the way he had spoken to his students. He threw a glance at Shannon, who had been there that day, too. The sympathy in her eyes told him she was thinking the same thing.

Grant paused the audio for a moment. "I know it doesn't sound like much, but remember, Nicholas, by this time the full physical effects of the LSD had taken hold."

"You were putty in his hands," growled Max, his voice not able to hide his anger.

Nicholas nodded but said nothing.

"There's more," Grant ventured. "You ready?"

Another nod, and the voice resumed.

You don't have any friends. Nobody cares about you. They are just pretending. They are only using you. You wish everyone would leave you alone. You are just fine. You don't need help. You don't need anyone...

The voice was still talking, but Nicholas could not hear it anymore. Suddenly, he was back in that classroom, reliving the moment he yelled at Shannon, pushed her away when she had tried to comfort him...remembering how much he had hated her when they all showed up at his apartment...

As Max listened to the words on the audio file, he cursed to himself. The bastard! How dare he! It was one thing to make Nicholas think that that his students didn't care about him. But his friends? Max couldn't help but take that personally, and that was the moment he regretted that he hadn't had the opportunity to punch the guy's lights out.

He looked over at Nicholas, and his breath caught in his throat. Nicholas was staring vaguely at a corner of the wall, but his eyes had glazed over, as if he were in a trance. It was clear that he wasn't with them anymore.

"Nicholas?"

A scene switch...and Nicholas was standing in front of Jim, seething with anger. Jim, who had been like a father to him! Denouncing him, and the entire IMF team...how could they want him now?...

Beads of sweat began to appear on Nicholas' forehead, and his face began to flush. Max, already sitting next to his friend on the sofa, moved in closer and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Nicholas?" he tried again.

Shannon, flanking his left side, felt for his hand, which was limp in hers, and squeezed, earnestly seeking a response.

"Nicholas, can you hear us?"

...Then he was going after Grant...trying to attack him for taking away the spiked medications... wanting to hurt him...even though Grant was like a brother to him, and if he hadn't found out what was in the medicines, Nicholas might not even still be here...

Max could feel Nicholas' heart racing, and his slow, even breathing was now coming in jagged gasps. Damn flashback, he thought.

"Nicholas, talk to me!" he demanded, his voice louder now, more urgent.

Grant looked up, snapped off the audio and got up from his chair, and he and Jim moved closer to their teammate, deeply concerned.

..Finally, Nicholas saw himself nose to nose with Max...Max!...he could hear himself openly rejecting him, see himself pointing his finger at him, drawing back to hit him...how could he do that to Max?...and then even after all that, Max had saved his life...and stayed with him at the hospital...what kind of friend was he?

Nicholas' eyes remained unfocused, unseeing, as his body began to tremble.

Terrified now, Max hopped off the couch and knelt in front of his friend, desperate to elicit some sort of reaction.

"Nicholas!" he pleaded, giving his right shoulder a firm but gentle shake. "Come on, buddy, snap out of it!"

Shannon let go of his hand and rushed to grab a washcloth, which she dampened with cool water. She returned to her perch beside Nicholas and lightly dabbed at his hot, sweaty forehead as Max continued to plead for a response.

tbc...


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review :)

* * *

Chapter 15

Wet. Something was cool and wet on his forehead.

Nicholas blinked his eyes and the room slowly came back into focus. Max was still there in front of him, talking to him, but he couldn't quite make out the words at first. His other teammates and their new police officer friend...whose name escaped him at the moment...were also close by. Shannon, beside him, was the source of the something cool and wet; she was rubbing his forehead gently with a washcloth.

Nicholas heard several audible sighs of relief as he blinked once more and looked around the room. In spite of how badly he had treated them, his friends were all here, with nothing but concern for him on their faces. He didn't deserve them. Especially Max, he thought, as his gaze settled on his friend who was still kneeling before him, touching his arm.

He remembered hearing Cameron's voice, and then all those memories at his apartment...when he was so mean to everyone...came back with a vengeance. A flashback, then, and a wicked one.

"I'm sorry," Nicholas whispered.

"It was my fault, pal," replied Grant, his eyes moist, as he gave his friend's back a gentle pat. "I shouldn't have played that audio. Not so soon after..." His voice trailed off.

"Grant," Nicholas said softly, reaching up to grasp his friend's arm and ignoring for the moment that the flashback wasn't really what he had been apologizing for, "I wanted you to, remember? And I still want to hear the last one."

"Absolutely not, Nicholas," said Jim emphatically."You're in no shape-"

"Jim, please," he interrupted, "I have to. Besides," he added, with a look at Max, who was still watching him intently, "I think I know what this one will be about."

"The spiders," Max replied, putting two and two together.

Nicholas nodded.

"But you might have another flashback," Todd Spencer protested. He had been quite uncomfortable for the past few moments and was not eager to repeat that scene again.

"I don't think so," Nicholas responded, giving Max a half-smile. "We've been through that once already, eh, partner?"

Max nodded, grinning at his use of the word - an unspoken appreciation that Max had been there for him, just now, yet again.

Nicholas turned to Shannon, who was still dabbing at his face with the cloth. "I'm all right now, Shannon," he smiled. "Thank you."

"Are you sure, Nicholas?" she asked anxiously, still not quite convinced, though his vitals were returning to normal and his face had regained its usual color.

"I'm sure," he replied. Then he turned back to Grant.

"I want to hear the third audio," he said flatly.

Jim held up his hand. "No, Nicholas, this isn't a good idea."

Nicholas turned to his leader, his eyes pleading. "Jim, please," he begged, "I need to know...I have to know whether..." he pointed to his arm... "this happened just because I was drugged, or whether Cameron really wanted me to die. Can you understand that?"

Jim sighed. God, he could be stubborn.

Max ran a hand through his hair. Yes, he could understand that...though he wasn't sure he wanted to know that answer himself.

Grant, seeing that he wasn't going to get anywhere, reluctantly walked back to his computer and pushed the button to play loop three.

Feel that? the voice began. Feel the spiders crawling up and down your arms? Little baby spiders...hundreds of them...crawling up and down...up and down...

You have to get rid of them! If you don't, they will drive you insane...and there's only one way to do it...

You have to kill them...go in the kitchen...grab the knife...

Grant cut off the audio before any other words were spoken. He threw a quick glance at Nicholas, still holding Shannon's hand, but his friend looked okay...at least, for someone who had just heard firsthand the confirmation of the nightmare that had almost ended his life.

Officer Spencer stood up. "I think I've heard enough," he said in disgust.

"I think we've all heard enough," Max grunted in response, as he stood up and walked away from the group for a moment to regain his composure. What had happened to Nicholas was bad enough; to know that someone actually planned it and put that plan into action was almost too much to take in.

Nicholas looked around at his team. It seemed that everyone was waiting for him to respond. "I think you're right, Grant," he said softly.

"About what, buddy?"

"I don't feel sorry for him anymore."

* * *

"Well, I'm headed back to the station to write my report before quitting time," Todd said, as he put his hat back on his head.

Grant handed a copy of the audio files to Todd Spencer with a warm handshake.

"Thanks for everything, man," he grinned.

"Hey, you've helped us out enough over the past few years," Todd replied, returning the smile. "Glad I could return the favor."

Todd turned to Nicholas and extended his hand. "I'm glad you're all right, Nicholas," he said sincerely.

"Thank you," he replied, as the officer nodded to the others and said goodbye.

A couple of minutes later, Grant also stood up and stretched. "Well, pal, I hate to break up this party," he began as Max rejoined the group, "but tomorrow is Monday, after all, which means some of us have gotta work."

Shannon sighed and reluctantly released Nicholas' hand as she got up from the couch beside him. "So true, Grant," she agreed.

"Yeah, I guess we've all got things to do in the morning," Jim chimed in.

Nicholas stood up to receive handshakes and hearty back thumps from Grant and Jim, as well as a soft hug from Shannon.

"Take it easy, pal," Grant smiled at Nicholas as they bid goodbye to Max in the same fashion.

Grant was about to reach for the door when Nicholas called out, "Wait a minute, guys," taking all four friends by surprise.

"What is it, Nicholas?" Jim asked, a twinge of concern on his face.

"There's something I need to say to all of you," he replied quietly, as the three departing friends drew closer to Nicholas once again. He looked deeply into each of their eyes.

"I'm sorry that I treated each of you so badly, when all you were doing was trying to help me. And even now, you're still helping me. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Nicholas, please," Grant interrupted before he could continue. "It wasn't like you knew what you were doing."

"I'm so grateful for each of you," he said sincerely, but with eyes pointed toward Max. "I couldn't have gotten through this ordeal without you."

"That's what friends do, buddy," Max grinned, slinging an arm around his shoulders...carefully, so as not to jostle his injured arm.

Nicholas looked - and felt - like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He had apologized to his friends, and he knew they had forgiven him.

Then the trio said their goodbyes again...with hugs this time...and went on their way.

* * *

It was getting late, and it had been a long trying day, so it wasn't long before Max got Nicholas settled in the extra bedroom upstairs on the third floor.

"You know, Max," Nicholas ventured with a smile as Max went to work rustling up some extra bed linens, "I'm sure I could have stayed at my own place tonight."

"What, don't you like my hospitality?" Max jested, for he could tell that his friend was feeling better.

Nicholas chuckled for a moment, then grew serious. "I don't think I'll I have any more flashbacks."

"I hope you're right," Max answered, "but I'll be here if you need me just the same."

Nicholas smiled his gratitude as Max left him alone. Max got up to check on him a handful of times throughout the night, but Nicholas slept undisturbed till the next morning.

* * *

Steven Cameron wasn't sure what time it was, but it was probably close to time to make his move. It was getting close to breakfast time - he could tell by the growling of his stomach.

Last night, he had heard two of the deputies talking about shift changes. He knew that the overnight shift came in at midnight and left at eight the next morning. He also knew that one of the deputies who worked overnight on Saturday...and would be back tonight...was younger and more inexperienced than the others. His big brother had taught him that those kind were the easiest to manipulate.

The young one would be doing the seven a.m. cell check soon. Then, he would activate his plan.

It was Monday. Black's meddling friends would all leave for work around 7:30; the day shift deputies wouldn't find him missing until at least 8:00. That gave him a thirty minute window that Black was likely to be alone - the perfect time to go and bid his goodbyes to Professor Nicholas Black once and for all.

* * *

The young deputy entered the cell block. It was seven in the morning - time for hourly cell check.

The grizzled veteran who was his partner had taken care of all of the other cell checks tonight. But he was fetching breakfast for the twenty or so inmates that were housed there, so this time the task fell to him.

He didn't really mind. Most of the inmates would still be asleep. The ones who weren't could be surprisingly personable. Like that one...Cameron, was it?...they had met yesterday. He'd told the deputy how he hadn't been the same since someone had killed his brother. He sort of liked the man, felt sorry for him, and hoped that he got himself straightened out.

In the middle of his routine cell check, his eyes fell upon Cameron's quarters and the young deputy sucked in his breath sharply. Cameron was unconscious, his bedsheet knotted around his throat and tied to one of the crossbars in the cell door!

He knew that protocol directed him to call his partner. But that would take time...time Mister Cameron may not have. Who knew how long he'd been unconscious? Was he still breathing? Was he even still alive?

The deputy whipped out his keys and swiftly unlocked the cell. He gingerly opened the door and bent down to work on the knot around Cameron's throat.

Too late, he realized that he'd been duped. Quick as lightning, Cameron opened his eyes, grabbed the deputy's gun from his holster, and whacked him across the temple, knocking him out.

Cameron undressed the young deputy then cuffed him and gagged him with the bedsheet. He quickly disrobed and put on the deputy's uniform, then went back upstairs.

"Everything okay?" asked his partner, who was just coming in with biscuits for the inmates. From a passing glimpse, he didn't notice anything different about the deputy.

Cameron did not answer, but instead walked up behind the second deputy, as if to help him distribute the food, and whacked him across the back of the head with the first deputy's gun. He cuffed and gagged the second deputy, then draped him across his shoulders in a fireman's carry and took him downstairs. He placed him into the cell with his partner and locked the cell door.

He stopped just long enough to look at the paperwork on the desk. He knew that officer Spencer had finished his report the day before, and that he had written down where Black would be staying. He made a mental note of the address, then hastily made his exit and hailed a cab. By the time they figured out he was gone, it would be too late for Professor Black.

tbc...


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review :)

* * *

Chapter 16

Nicholas awoke to sunshine peeking through the sheer curtains in Max's upstairs bedroom. He stretched and rolled out of bed. He walked to the glass door and slid it open, walking out onto the small metal balcony. The breeze felt good against his skin. He took in a deep breath, then pulled the screen closed, leaving the glass door open.

He reached over and checked his cell phone. It was 7:35 a.m. He had slept well...no bad dreams, no flashbacks. He felt really good today - the best he'd felt in a week. Being under Max's roof probably had quite a bit to do with that.

Speaking of Max, Nicholas absently wondered where he was. He opened the bedroom door and started descending the stairs, but stopped partway down as he heard Max's voice.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't go right now," Max spoke into his phone. "I'm taking a few day's leave...personal reasons...I'm not sure exactly; probably next week sometime...look, unless you can wait a week or so, then you're going to have to find someone else...I'm sorry." He hung up the phone in frustration.

Max looked up as Nicholas finished his descent and managed to smile at his friend. "Good morning," he greeted. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Nicholas said tersely. He sounded annoyed.

"Sorry if I woke you," Max apologized, thinking that was the reason his pal was angry.

"You didn't," Nicholas replied.

"What is it, then?" Max asked, running a hand through his hair as he usually did when he was nervous. "Why are you upset with me?"

"That call was about a flight, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Max admitted, "but I'm not available right now."

"Why not?"

Max very nearly rolled his eyes but did not answer. Did he not understand?

"Look, Max," Nicholas said gently, "I appreciate all you've done for me, I really do. But I'm okay now. I did fine last night. You need to go back to work. Don't miss out because of me."

"Why don't you let me decide what I need to do?" Max snapped without meaning to.

Nicholas, taken aback, wasn't sure what to say to that, but he knew there was more to this. "Max," he ventured, "what are you not telling me?"

Max stared out the living room window for several moments before answering. "The past few days have been hell," he finally answered.

"Yes," Nicholas agreed, "but I'm fine now."

"Well, I'm not!" Max countered, startling Nicholas, in a voice that was louder than he intended. He turned from the window to face his friend. "All I can think about is you being hurt...and the flashbacks...it scared the hell out of me, Nicholas, and I'm not ready to let you out of my sight yet."

Nicholas gasped. How could he have missed this? How could he have ignored the effect the last few days' events had had on his friend?

"Max, I'm sorry," Nicholas began.

"Don't worry about it," Max said hastily, embarrassed, as he opened the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"To get some air," Max replied.

Before the door closed behind him, Max's phone rang. "Your phone."

"Leave it," Max growled. "I'm not flying."

* * *

Todd Spencer pulled into the parking lot at precisely 7:45 a.m. It had been a busy weekend, but the case he was working on with Grant Collier had taken up most of his time. He was sure that other things would compete for his attention today, and he was anxious to get a head start on the week ahead.

He walked into the station. "Good morning," he called to his third shift deputies. There was no response. That was odd. He went a little further inside and noticed they weren't at the desk in the lobby, either, and the breakfast biscuits that had been fetched for the inmates - usually served by 7:30 - were still on the table.

Immediately, Spencer's guard went up. He drew his weapon and descended the stairs, being doubly careful because his partner had not arrived yet.

There was a clamor of noises coming from the cell block - almost every inmate was standing at the bars, demanding to know why breakfast had not yet arrived. It took Spencer a few moments to reach Steven Cameron's cell. When he did, he was shocked by what he saw: his two deputies...one in uniform, one unclothed...handcuffed and gagged, kicking against the bars in desperation...

And Cameron was gone.

Damn! Spencer thought, unsure how long he'd been gone but knowing without a doubt that he was after Nicholas.

Spencer hurriedly unlocked the cell door so that his officers could exit, then ran up the stairs two at a time and frantically searched on the desk until he found his report...and Max's phone number. He dialed frantically.

There was no answer.

Spencer cursed again. He ripped the gag out of the mouth of the young deputy, who by this time had reached the lobby. "When?" he barked.

The deputy, knowing he was asking when Cameron had escaped, answered, "Seven."

Almost an hour ago.

Spencer prayed Cameron hadn't yet made his move; otherwise, both Max and Nicholas were very likely already dead.

Spencer tried Max's phone one more time...still no answer...then sighed nervously as he dialed a number that was significantly more familiar.

"Hello, Todd," greeted Grant, seeing the officer's name and number pop up on his caller ID. "How are you?"

"Cameron's escaped," Spencer replied curtly. There was no time to waste. "Been gone almost an hour. I can't reach Max."

"Oh, my God," Grant gasped, grabbing his keys. "I'm on my way to the condo."

"Be careful," Spencer cautioned. "He incapacitated both my officers, and my partner's not here so I can't leave yet, but I'll be there soon as I can."

Then he hung up.

Grant 's heart was in his throat as he dialed Jim's number. He just hoped they weren't too late.

* * *

Steven Cameron, still dressed in the policeman's uniform, exited the cab and stood on the hill overlooking the condominiums on Purcell Street where Spencer's report had said Black would be staying for a few days.

At first, Cameron couldn't tell which unit was number seventeen; they weren't very clearly marked. Besides, Cameron still did not know the names of all of Black's nosy friends, so he wasn't sure which one was Max Harte...except, disappointingly, it likely wasn't the pretty female. Shame. He'd have liked to have had some more fun with her.

Suddenly, one of the doors opened and someone walked outside. Cameron's heart leaped. It was the brawny blond! His mouth curled into an evil grin. This would be fun, indeed. He had a score to settle with this one. Max had screwed up his plans before. It would not happen again.

Cameron fingered the weapon inside the holster that was slung tightly around his hips. For a moment, he thought about whipping it out and taking care of business right then. But he thought better of it. He hadn't really shot a gun before, aside from target shooting with his brother years ago. From this far away, he would almost certainly miss; from closer range, He would undoubtedly attract undue attention that would take him away from his ultimate goal. But he could sure use the gun to disable the blond another way.

Cameron gathered his nerve and walked up to Max. "Good morning," he greeted.

"Morning, officer," Max replied. "What can I do for you?"

He had to get Harte inside the house.

"Officer Spencer sent me. Had a couple more questions for Mister Black. Is he here?"

"Yeah, he's inside," Max answered. "Come on in. I'll get him."

"Thank you," Cameron said politely.

Max opened the condo door and went inside. Cameron followed a step later, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door closed, Cameron whipped out the gun and swung it hard against the back of Max's head. He crumbled to the floor, never knowing what hit him.

Cameron smiled in satisfaction. He listened carefully, trying to determine where Black might be. He heard the sound of water turning off upstairs and smiled again. This time, he would not fail.

* * *

Nicholas started to follow Max outside, to somehow make amends for not seeing how much the last few days had affected him. But he changed his mind. He'd give Max some time, then they would talk. For now, he would take a shower.

Ten minutes later, he was back in the guest bedroom, freshly clad in clean clothes, absently wondering if Max had yet come back inside. He'd given him ample time to collect his thoughts. Now he needed to find his friend.

Nicholas started downstairs.

The very next moment, he came face to face with a police revolver pressed against his forehead. He heard a clicking sound as the hammer was cocked. A man in a police uniform stood in front of him, but something told Nicholas this was no policeman.

"Cameron," Nicholas muttered.

"Professor Black," Cameron sneered. "Time to say goodbye."

tbc...


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review :)

* * *

Chapter 17

Nicholas swallowed hard. For the first time, he was getting a close look at the man who had driven him to the edge of madness and clearly wished him dead. Although, he realized, Shannon had been right- he had seen Cameron before.

"The exterminator," Nicholas gasped.

Cameron smiled boastfully while continuing to shove the pistol in Black's face. "Nothing gets past you, does it, Professor?"

Nicholas stared into Cameron's eyes and saw the pure evil that glared back at him...but he also sensed that Cameron's wrath concealed a hell of a lot of pain. He knew that Cameron could blow him away at any moment.

He didn't dare try to make a move, and he didn't know where in the world Max was...probably subdued by his adversary...God, he hoped Max was all right!

But, despite the danger, Nicholas couldn't help but feel a little empathy.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Nicholas said quietly.

For a moment, he thought Cameron was going to snap, and braced himself for the inevitable gunshot.

But it didn't come.

"Sorry!" Cameron spat. "You were his favorite! He trusted you! Told you things he didn't share with anyone else! He trusted you and you kicked him out!"

Cameron began to walk toward Nicholas, forcing him to backpedal toward the open window in the guest bedroom as the gun was still firmly pressed against his forehead.

"He was my best friend. I was seventeen when he died," Cameron said bitterly, his voice an equal mix of rage and grief. "He missed my graduation. I wanted to be just like him. So I enrolled at the university and took every class he had taken...yes, Professor Black, even yours, last semester. You never even made the connection."

Cameron was on a roll now. He had kept things quiet for so long, planning his revenge...he was going to let Black have it all - and then he would die!

"I waited five years...waited until I learned everything Will knew...then I wanted you to feel everything he felt. I wanted you to know how it felt to be alone, isolated from your friends, high on drugs with everyone thinking you're crazy, and driven to suicide. Of course, your blond friend messed up those plans, several times...but not to worry; I took care of him. And now it's your turn."

Cameron's eyes were steely cold. "Enough talk, Professor Black. It's time to die."

Nicholas closed his eyes. It looked like this was it. Then he opened them again, just in time to see something fly across the room.

Nicholas managed to crouch down and to the side, as Max's body made contact with Cameron's. The gun clattered to the floor and spun safely out of the way as the two men wrestled across the floor.

They got to their feet and continued to scramble, each throwing wild punches, finally splitting the screen door and ending up on the small balcony. Cameron wrapped both hands around Max's neck and both men leaned precariously over the waist-high railing.

Nicholas had gotten to his feet and was about to offer assistance when both men disappeared over the railing! There were two screams, then a sickening thump...and silence.

"MAX!" Nicholas screamed, rushing to peer over the rail, terrified that he would see his friend lying on the pavement below. But there was only one body...it was Cameron's, and from the unnatural way he had landed and the spreading pool of blood beneath his head, it was clear that he hadn't survived.

"Hey...a little help here?" came a cry from below. Nicholas looked down to see Max clinging desperately to the railing, his fingers barely visible at the bottom of the balcony.

"Hang on, buddy," Nicholas said tensely as he planted his feet firmly, then reached over the railing and grabbed Max's left hand with his right one.

He slung his left arm over the rail to grab Max's right one, and cried out, as the pain was nearly unbearable. He'd forgotten he had seventeen stab wounds in his upper left arm. He thought at any time the stitches might burst open, but, damn it, he wasn't going to let go.

At that moment, Nicholas became aware of a presence next to him, and a brown arm offering assistance.

Grant. Thank God, Nicholas thought in relief as the two men hauled their friend to safety.

Once Max was back on solid ground, Nicholas impulsively grabbed him and hugged him tightly. Max returned the gesture. The relief that he was safe - that they were both safe - combined with all the turmoil of the past week, came spilling out in that wordless embrace. Presently, the two men each felt a strong arm across his back as Grant, also overwhelmed, joined in.

"It's over," Grant whispered. "It's finally over."

tbc...


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer:

I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please review :)

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Chapter 18

Epilogue

"Well, here we are again," Max grinned a few days later as he helped Nicholas load his suitcases into the back of the gray BMW.

"Yes, well, hopefully this time there won't be anybody with a crazy vendetta staking out the place next door," Nicholas quipped.

"I hope not," Max returned. "I kind of miss how boring my life was up until about a week ago."

Nicholas chuckled as Max ran a hand through his hair. "So," he ventured, "are you ready to get back to work?"

"I think so," Nicholas responded. "Being off for a week has been good, but I'm ready. Besides, I have some apologizing to do."

Nicholas gazed at his friend and did not miss the twinge of worry that crossed his face.

"I'm really glad you suggested counseling, Max," Nicholas smiled by way of reassurance. "I think it's going to help a lot."

Then Nicholas' face clouded. "You know, I've never asked you how you're doing with...everything," he remarked.

Max shrugged but said nothing.

"It's funny," Nicholas observed, "seems like last time you helped me out, I promised to return the favor." His voice grew quiet. "But I don't think I can ever repay you for all that you've done for me."

"Well, you helped me out when I was hanging around," Max quipped. "That counts for something."

Leave it to Max to wisecrack, Nicholas thought.

But Max knew his friend was serious, and he gave his shoulder a heartfelt squeeze. "Nobody's keeping score, Nicholas," he answered soberly. "Cameron wasn't going to stop until you were dead. It was either him or you." He shrugged. "So I'm okay with how it ended up."

Nicholas smiled at his friend. "So, when are you flying out?"

"Seven in the morning," he answered. "Should be back by Friday."

"Be safe, Max," Nicholas urged, as he extended his hand.

"You, too, partner," Max replied as he returned the handshake and thumped his pal on the back.

Nicholas climbed in the driver's seat and, with one last wave of his hand, drove away with a smile. He knew that no matter whether it was business or personal, his friends always had his back.

Because that's what friends do.

The End


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